Hostages
by judybrowneyes
Summary: Spock, Lady Amanda, and Captain Kirk's young nephew, Peter Kirk, are taken as political hostages by Orion warriors. Sarek, Uhura, Scotty, Sulu and Pavel are prominently involved in this story. Reviews are welcomed and appreciated. I like to focus on friends/family/relationships in the TOS universe. I don't own these characters, if I did Kirk would still be on the Enterprise.
1. Hostages Prologue

"Only the Rarest Kind of Anything can be Good for the Young"

Bells and Grass: A book of Rhymes

By Walter de la Mare

Hostages

Prologue

Six men sat around a large table.

"It is agreed then," said one. "We will take the hostages one week from tonight."

"Yes, word has come through. Plans are now definite for the gathering," said the second voice. "The three will be there."

There was silence around the table. "There must be no killing. I will not sanction any killing," added a third more cultured voice.

Another voice, hoarse and fierce, broke the silence. "I cannot guarantee that. Let me remind you that I only agreed to no killing of the civilian. The military hostage may be a different matter. Circumstances will dictate what must be done."

The first voice spoke again. "Our demands must be firm. Absolutely no negotiations."

"Again…circumstances may change. Let us remain flexible," responded the hoarse voice. "The Federation Council is a monstrous bureaucracy. One must be aware at all times that with a bureaucracy such as that one, flexibility may be necessary or nothing may be accomplished." He looked around the table. "Is everyone in agreement?"

All six men were silent.

"Then let it begin."


	2. Chapter 1

Hostages

Chapter 1

James T. Kirk was giving a party. This event was so unusual as to cause excited comment and wild rumor among the crew of the U.S.S. Enterprise.

It wasn't as if there were never any parties on board the ship. As a matter of fact, parties were a frequent occurrence. Birthdays, promotions, anniversaries, and any other occasion that could be thought of, were celebrated by the crew as often and as riotously as possible. The Enterprise was a happy ship and parties were simply one way the crew expressed their feelings for their ship and their captain.

The startling fact however, was that this time Captain Kirk was giving a party at his apartment in San Francisco. All Enterprise department heads were invited, the command crew would all be there, and Lt. Uhura had agreed to act as hostess _and_ she had agreed to sing too. Rumor also had it that Admiral Nogura would attend, and that (and this caused some jaws to drop) Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda of Vulcan would also attend. This last could not be confirmed. Thus far, no one had the temerity to ask Mr. Spock if it were true.

The Enterprise was to be moored at the San Francisco Space Dock Annex to have a badly needed refit of her warp engines. Chief Engineer Scott had finally convinced the powers that be that the refitting was absolutely necessary if the ship was to continue running at top efficiency levels. After all, Klingons and Romulans were not known for letting one get a head start in a chase. However, even with round the clock work schedules, it would take a full month's hard work to do the refit, and each of the 430 crew members would have a ten-day leave in three rotations. Emotions were running high, and moral had never been better. The San Francisco Bay Metroplex area was considered prime R and R country by all Starfleet personnel. As rapidly as possible, the families and friends of the crew were notified of the arrival of the Enterprise in space dock. Uhura's communication board hadn't been so busy since the Tribble crises.

"Lt. Sulu, bring us in to space dock, one-fourth c, and tell Fleet that the Enterprise is home. "

"Aye, Captain." Sulu's grin threatened to split his face apart as he glanced up at the Captain's smiling face. His sure hands glided over the helm controls. "We're sub light now, Captain, and we have our vector."

"Put it on the screen, Lt. I want to see her come in." Jim Kirk never tired of seeing his ship. Now, as she came gliding stately into the space dock, he saw her shimmering primary and secondary discs and her nacelles silhouetted against the San Francisco dock exterior stanchions that greeted incoming ships. The reflected light off the station made her look mysterious, bigger then ever. Then, Jim, watching the screen, saw her rolling slowly, once, twice, on her longitudinal axis, one victory roll and then one more.

"Mr. Sulu, belay that," Kirk said, trying to sound stern, but a faint smile was on his face.

"Aye, Captain." Sulu grinned, as he glanced up at the Captain's smiling face. "We're in sight now, Captain."

"Dockyard ready on main umbilical, Captain," reported Uhura.

"Good. Keep it on the screen, Uhura. Let's watch the docking procedure."

Instantly, the scene on the screen shifted to show the Enterprise as she looked to those watching from the orbital station. Through the giant maw of Starfleet Space Dock, she glided in slowly, majestic, serene, like some giant silvery bird homing in on her nest.

"She looks beautiful," breathed Sulu.

Jim nodded, his eyes never leaving the screen. No matter how exhausted, fed up, drained, or at the end of his commandertorail rope he might be, the sight of his great ship always refreshed and renewed him as nothing else ever could.

"Maneuvering thrusters, Mr. Sulu."

With a flick of his fingers, Sulu brought the ship silently forward until she was exactly at dry dock center.

Jim gave the order. "Engage the main umbilical." He waited, with the appearance of a calm he did not feel, for the all clear from the Star Fleet Ship Controllers and when it came, he flashed a grin at his beaming command crew.

Now the screen showed him the magnificent surreal beauty of the San Francisco orbital dockyard looking like a giant spider web shimmering and glowing in the radiant incandescent gold of the sun. It seemed to Jim that he had never seen anything so beautiful as that lattice-work of luminous metal. He sighed and relaxed, relieved and happy to be home.

"Lt. Uhura, tell Dr. McCoy's staff to begin posting shore leave schedules effective immediately. Have them check that the department heads and the command crew are in the first rotation for shore leave and have them make sure that relief personnel have their assignments. Also, tell Dr. McCoy to meet me in my quarters in twenty minutes," ordered the Captain.

"Aye, sir."

Kirk rose from the command chair and stretched his cramped muscles. Lord, he was tired.

"All docking procedures completed, sir. All paper work is filed."

"Very good, Mr. Sulu. Spock, you have the con for the next 23 minutes."

"Yes sir." Spock slipped smoothly into the command chair, his face impassive as usual. But to those who knew him well, a quiet gleam of anticipation could be seen in the dark hooded eyes.

As Kirk stepped out of the turbo lift into deck 5, he was amused to see the number of excited crew scurrying about the corridors, greeting him absently. The ship was fairly humming with excitement and good cheer.

_Good_, he thought. _The crew deserves this break. It's been a very tough six months and it's time that we all get to play a little_. He walked to his quarters and thought of the letter he had received from his mother. He smiled to himself in anticipation, as he planned all the kinds of fun he would engage in.

In the dim light of the quiet oasis that were his quarters, Kirk saw that Bones was already there. He was reclining in the desk chair, feet up, hands folded over his stomach, eyes closed. Two glasses and a bottle of Saurian brandy stood prominently on the desk.

"Well, it's about time you got here Captain, sir," Bones murmured, eyes still closed. "I was beginning to think I was gonna' have to drink this expensive stuff all by myself." When he was drinking, McCoy's accent got more and more Georgian and his manner more and more avuncular with each drink. "Sit down, put your feet up and relax, my boy." He opened his eyes, grinned at his captain, poured out two dollops into the glasses and handed one to Jim. "Cheers and a happy shore leave to us all," he drawled and drained the glass in one swallow.

Kirk grinned and drank down the fiery liquid. His eyes watered as it slipped down his throat.

"It's a good thing you're a doctor, Bones, or else I'd think you were trying to kill me with this stuff at this hour of the morning. It's really too early for a drink." He pushed McCoy's large feet off his desk, and perched on the corner. "Are you packed and ready to go"?

"It's never too early for a drink, Captain, sir, and this whole damn ship's been packed for a week. I'll have you know that I've had several cases of shore leave anxiety attacks in the past two days. They were afraid we'd never make it to space dock without a red alert, a Klingon battle, an alien presence, or somethin' else."

Jim laughed. "I know just how they feel. I've had some anxieties like that myself." He swallowed the last of his drink, coughed and stood up. "Well, let's get this show on the road. The transporter awaits." He pulled McCoy to his feet and grabbed his duffel bag. "I've been packed for a week, too," he said slyly.

The eager command crew was waiting impatiently on the transporter platform. They were all fairly twitching with suppressed excitement, except for Spock of course; whose calm demeanor was as unruffled as always.

"Mr. Kyle, see you at the party tomorrow night," Jim nodded to the transporter chief and stepped up on the pad. "Energize."

"Aye, sir." Kyle smiled as he watched them disappear in the familiar silvery whine of transporter effect.

As the crew transported down to the Star Fleet central terminal, a small impatient figure detached his hand from the adult at his side and ran forward eagerly. "Uncle Jim, Uncle Jim, I'm here!" The child hurled himself at Kirk, who went down on one knee and hugged him hard.

"Peter!"

The little boy's arms tightened convulsively around Jim and the fair head burrowed into Jim's neck. Jim hugged him again, savoring the warmth of the small body for a second longer, then stood keeping his arm around the child.

"Peter, it's great to see you." He nodded his thanks at the attendant who had brought the boy and blinked hard to clear the mist from his eyes.

"How's grandma and how was your trip?" he asked.

The child's eager face looked up at him. "Grandma's fine, she sent you her love and a letter; the shuttle trip was fun, only too short," Peter answered. "I like flying a lot, Uncle Jim."

Jim laughed happily. Peter looked wonderful. It has been a long six months since Jim had last seen him and close to a year since the death of his parents. Sam, Peter's father, had been Jim's older and only brother. He and his wife Aurelan had died on the planet Deneva, victims of deadly alien parasites that destroyed their victim's nervous systems. With the help of McCoy and Spock, Kirk had saved the planet. But it had been too late to save Sam and Aurelan. Only Peter had survived. McCoy had fought valiantly and successfully to save the little boy's life. Peter had spent a month on the starship with Jim on their way home, and together they had both worked through the grief and pain of their mutual loss. Peter now made his home on Earth with Jim's mother at the farm in Iowa, but Winona Kirk felt that Peter needed to spend some time with Jim, so they had arranged for the child to spend two weeks with Jim in San Francisco.

"Peter, you remember these people don't you?" He turned the child gently around to face the group.

With a shy smile, Peter nodded his head and shook hands with Uhura, Sulu and Chekhov who looked at him with delight. He surprised McCoy by giving him a hug which McCoy returned enthusiastically. The doctor had grown very fond of the little boy during the month he had been in his care.

"Aye, and he's a fine lad, Captain," said Scotty, as he shook the small hand. "He looks tae to me like he's grown considerable, and he's getting' to look more and more like yourself, sir."

Peter beamed at Scotty. He adored his Uncle Jim; and he could think of nothing better than to be told he looked like his uncle.

When he turned to Mr. Spock, Peter's face became very serious and dignified. He forced his hand into the Vulcan greeting. "Live long and prosper, Mr. Spock," he said softly. He liked this tall, gentle, quiet man, who was always at his Uncle Jim's side. On board the ship, he always seemed to have time for Peter, answering Peter's many questions about the ship and crew with patience.

As Peter turned back to his uncle, Jim saw Spock lay his hand gently on the shining, fair head. McCoy saw it too and raised his eyebrows at Jim, but said nothing. Well, well, thought McCoy, it seems that Spock likes the child. Wouldn't do to say a thing, though or he'll retreat behind the Great Wall of Vulcan and deny it completely.

"Uncle Jim, how's the Enterprise?" Peter shared Jim's passion for the great starship, and many a bedtime had been enlivened by Jim telling Peter some story about the Enterprise and her crew. "It's the best crew and starship in the Fleet," Peter told his envious classmates at school, and at every opportunity shared the letters he received from his Uncle Jim.

"The ship is fine, Peter. I'll take you aboard her in a few days and we'll see how the warp engines' refitting is coming along. Maybe Mr. Scott will come along and explain the whole procedure to you." He looked at the chief engineer who nodded smiling in response.

"Meanwhile….Peter, how would you like to go to a party.?"

Peter tore his fascinated gaze away from the myriad number of alien life forms that were a part of Star Fleet Central and looked up at his uncle.

"A party? What kind of party, Uncle Jim."

"An Enterprise party. Mr. Sulu, Mr. Chekhov, Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott will all be there. Lt. Uhura has promised to sing, and help me out, and there will be lots of good friends and some good food there….and possibly cake!"

"Cake! I like cake! Will Mr. Spock be there too?" Peter gave Spock a side glance and a quick grin, a replica of Jim's own.

"Oh, yes indeed," answered McCoy. "Mr. Spock will be the life of the party. We never have a successful party unless Spock attends and adds hilarity, wit and sparkle to the evening."

"Bones!" Jim protested. He glared at the doctor. Sometimes McCoy went too far in his attempts to get a rise from the Vulcan.

"I will certainly be there, Peter," answered Spock, totally ignoring the doctor. "Also my parents will attend. My mother, particularly, will be most pleased to meet you."

"O.k." Peter gave a small wriggle of satisfaction. "I'll go, but…"

"But what, Peter?" asked his uncle quizzically looking down at the small face.

"Grandma didn't pack any party clothes for me. She just packed regular stuff and said if I needed anything more you would get then for me. I've been growing," he said proudly.

"So you have, Peter. I can see you're taller," Jim said gently, amused.

"Captain, if you'd like, I can take Peter shopping. I have to get party clothes too. I haven't a thing to wear," said Uhura.

"Ah, the age-old lament of the female, "said Mr. Scott, twinkling fondly at her.

"Uhura, I'd appreciate that more than I can say. Is that o.k. with you, Peter?"

The child nodded. He liked the beautiful Uhura. She had been very kind to him on board ship, and had even taught him to sing a couple of space chanteys that had enthralled his bemused grandmother.

"Good, that's settled then," Jim said relieved. He hated shopping in any form. "Uhura charge everything to me. Here's my credit chip."

"No thanks, Captain, my treat." Uhura smiled at Peter, "This will be fun for me too. Shall we go Peter? I see a shuttle marked 'Shopping Tour' over there." She grabbed Peter's hand and they ran for the shuttle. "Bye everybody. See you later at the apartment." She called back to them.

"Captain, I think Pavel and Hikaru and I will be getting' on too. We will leave our things at Sulu's co-op, then we'll be paintin' the town red, sir. I am plannin' to introduce these young gentlemen to some of the best recreational facilities this side of Wrigley's Planet," Scotty said. His eyes gleamed with anticipation.

"Carry on, gentlemen. I'll see you all tomorrow. See that you comport as officers and gentlemen," Jim said in mock sternness and saluted his men smartly.

All three returned the salute and hurried off looking suitably euphoric.

"Yes, well, we better get going too, " murmured McCoy to Spock.

Jim turned to his two friends. "Spock, Bones, I really would like it if you would both stay at my place. I have plenty of room. You two can share the guest bedroom, it has two large beds, and Uhura can use my room and Peter and I can bunk down in the library until Uhura leaves at the end of the week. How about it?"

"I'd sure like that, Jim," Bones said looking pleased. "It would surely be more fun and more comfortable than a hotel room."

"I, too, would be pleased to accept your invitation, Captain. The Vulcan Embassy is notorious for its drafty rooms and my parents will not mind," Spock said. "They have several political functions they must attend and will be quite busy until after the Federation Council vote on the Orion question."

Jim looked pleased. There were too few occasions when he could play host to these two, his closest friends. They were dear to him, and he savored the few times when they had been to his home.

It had been after his promotion to Captain that Jim decided it was time to buy a place he could call home when he was on Terra. The farm in Iowa was a haven, but it was his mother's. Jim wanted someplace that was totally his. He had looked around for a long time, in several parts of the world, saved as much of his salary as possible, and when the time came, he had finally decided on an apartment overlooking the Bay and the Bridge. True, it had been very expensive, but the view was spectacular, the complex had very good security, and most of his neighbors were Fleet personnel. He had contracted for cleaning services once a month when he was gone, and once a week when he was home. Occasionally, he had loaned his apartment to a friend, but for the most part it stood empty, ready for his annual furlough.


	3. Chapter 2

Hostages

Chapter 2

The three men stepped out of the terminal and into the bright sunlight of San Francisco. It was a beautiful sunny day, not a visage of fog today. Jim drew in a deep breath of the pure sparkling air and looked around with pleasure at the familiar sights and sound of Terra. Earth seemed infinitely beautiful and precious to him, as it always did after a long time away. They quickly found an air cab and in ten minutes the driver dropped them off in front of the apartment complex. Few of Jim's neighbors were home at this time of the day, and they took the empty lift up to Jim's apartment. Jim keyed in his security code and the door opened soundlessly. As they walked in, he looked around in deep satisfaction. I'm home, he thought, happily.

In common with the rest of the units in the complex, the front room of the apartment was the living area. Jim had furnished it with a few good pieces of exotic wood furniture, a big comfortable sofa and two large arm chairs, a couple of excellent landscapes on the walls, and some warm earth tone throw rugs from the farm that his mother had sent him. It also had a wood burning fireplace, and the wonderful focal point of the living room, a huge and beautiful bay window which faced the Bay and the Bridge and dominated the west side of the room. A narrow half wall separated the living area from the big, light filled kitchen, which had, in addition to every convenience known to man, a remarkable dining table and chairs of unbreakable Deltan glass. The pale green glass glowed eerily casting a soft radiance on the room and its occupants.

To the left of a long hall were the two bedrooms which were spacious and airy, with high ceilings and large windows that let in both the light and the view. Both of the rooms had large twin beds, desks and chests of drawers, with wall to wall carpets for the chill San Francisco weather. Jim liked to leave the windows open when the weather permitted. Each bedroom had a bath with a sonic and water shower and a dressing area which adjoined the two rooms in the middle.

Jim's pride and joy, however, was to the right of the hall, the big room he called The Library. Here is where he kept his slowly growing collection of real paper books, lovingly encased in their protective coverings on the shelves, as well as his family holos, and his models of past and present Enterprises. The models which stood in specially designed display cabinets, were all made to scale and were exact replicas of the ones he had on board ship. All known ships named Enterprise were represented here: the first ship used during the American Revolutionary War, the WW II aircraft carrier, the first nuclear powered aircraft carrier, the first orbital space shuttle test vehicle, and Jim's own beloved starship.

To the left of the door, there was a large bed/sofa where he often fell asleep while reading, and his rosewood desk and chair that had been a gift from his father and mother when he graduated from the Academy. In the corner stood an antique Terra globe, large and well yellowed with age. His brother, Sam, had given it to him on his twenty-fifth birthday. Jim would sometimes stand and twirl the giant globe on its wooden stand and read the legend in gothic script which said, "Here Be Dragons, " and think of Sam.

This room, perhaps, reflected best the curious duality of Jim Kirk's nature. His passionate love of space and ship, as well as his devotion to that anachronistic past he studied so often his historical books. The first time Bones had seen the Library, he had groaned with envy. Spock had merely nodded his head as if the room confirmed some previously held supposition he'd had about his captain.

Now in Jim's apartment, all three men were content to be someplace where they could relax and rid themselves of military responsibilities for however brief a time.

"How about some lunch? We didn't eat anything before we left the ship," Jim stated. "Spock will you program the food syn? I'll have salad and a chicken sandwich. Bones, Spock, you help yourself. We'll have to get some fresh food in for Peter's stay. My mother wouldn't like it if I just fed Peter food from the synthesizer. At the farm, he gets fresh food and milk every day, but then again Mom's a great cook."

"I'll have the same, Spock," McCoy told him. "You cook and I'll dispose of the dishes in the recycler. I never was a good cook."

"Undoubtedly, you cook as well as you do everything else, doctor," responded Spock.

McCoy opened his mouth for a comeback, but closed it again when nothing came to him. He frowned at Spock, unable to decide if he had been insulted or complimented.

Jim snorted and sat down at the table. "I stowed your gear in the bedroom. We can all unpack later. Right now let's eat, I'm starved."

Spock set the food down on the table and all three ate quietly, letting the peace of the early afternoon seep into their bodies. Jim finished his sandwich and yawned openly and hugely.

"I think I might take a nap," he mumbled sleepily to no one in particular.

"Jim if I might have leave to browse in your library and use the comm. unit to contact my parents."

"Feel free, Spock, my home is yours." He yawned again. "Bones what about you?"

"I think I'll watch the news and wait for Peter and Uhura. I'd like to catch up on what's been going on with Peter, Jim. How he's adjusting; all informally of course."

"Good idea, Bones. Mom said he's generally been doing fine, but sometimes he still cries at night and he still misses Sam and Aurelan terribly. I do too," he sighed.

"Perfectly normal, for both of you. Don't worry, Jim. He's a strong little boy and he's bounced back very well. Loosing one's parents is about the worse thing that can happen to a kid, so it's a good thing for Peter that he has your mother and he's here with you now. He needs your companionship and love," McCoy added.

"It's good for me too, Bones. I've missed him a lot these last six months. It's been hard to be away from Peter and Mom when I know they're grieving." He didn't say anything about his own deep grief. He sighed again. There was never enough time to lay down the cares of command. Even family and grief must come second to his responsibilities to his ship and his crew. He thought again of Sam and with difficulty, wrenched his mind back to the present.

Kirk looked up to see Spock's eyes on him across the table. "Well, Spock, what do you think of Peter? As I recall you didn't get to see as much of him as some of the other crew members when he was on board the ship. You were also recuperating for part of that time."

Spock rose from his chair with his usual cat-like grace, and looked down at his captain with a slight smile. "Setting your family prejudices aside, Captain, and taking into account the limited amount of time I spent with him, I find your nephew to be well-behaved, intelligent, and quite charming. As a matter of fact, I have noted a remarkable similarity in looks and personality to his uncle. Now, if you will excuse me, I will be in the library," said the unruffled voice.

Jim and McCoy stared wide-eyed at each other. Then Jim chuckled. " Well, well, what do you know about that. Peter got to him, Bones."

McCoy grinned wickedly. He was really going to enjoy this. Let that rabbit eared Vulcan deny that he liked the child all he wanted. McCoy would eventually pry the admission out of him. It sure was gonna' be fun doing it too, thought McCoy gleefully.

"I think I'll go take my nap," said Jim. "For some reason, I can't seem to keep my eyes open. Don't do anything too energetic Bones, or you might wake me up," Jim told the sprawled figure on the chair.

"Sarcasm is unbecomin' in an Officer and a Gentleman," murmured McCoy, not moving an inch.

The apartment became a haven of peace and tranquility. The gentle sound of snoring came from the far bedroom and the Library was also suspiciously silent. In the living room, McCoy's head nodded as the voice of the news commentator droned on the holo screen, and the afternoon shadows lengthened on the wall.

Uhura keyed in the security code at the door, and she and Peter walked into the apartment. It was so quiet and still that Uhura put her finger to her lips as she and Peter tiptoed past the recumbent McCoy and into the kitchen. They giggled quietly at the sound of Kirk's snoring coming from the bedroom.

McCoy started and slowly came awake. He heard the stifled laughter coming from the kitchen, stretched luxuriously, and smiled to himself.

"Nyota and Peter, what are you up to?" he called softly as he walked into the kitchen.

"Hi Dr. McCoy," Peter whispered loudly. "We're hungry, we didn't have time to eat lunch. We shopped so much my feet hurt," he added plaintively.

"Did you find what you needed?" He patted Peter affectionately on the shoulder.

"Yes we did. We had a great time, and you should see what we bought for everybody." Peter's eyes sparkled, and he and Uhura snickered as their eyes met.

It was clear that these two had become fast friends and conspirators during the afternoon's shopping expedition.

Spock, walking in quietly behind them, asked, "I trust the afternoon's labor went well?" He sat down at the table beside McCoy. "I, too, will have some of that fruit juice you are pouring out if you don't mind, Doctor."

"Hi Mr. Spock." Peter sat down across from Spock, put his elbows on the table, and fixed his hazel eyes on the Vulcan. "We bought a lot of stuff." He looked straight at Spock, his eyes alight, but a little uncertain. "I bought something for you, a present, I hope you like it."

"For me?" The Vulcan was visibly startled. He quirked one eyebrow. "Is this an earth custom with which I am not familiar? I know about the exchange of gifts at birthdays and Christmas, but it is not my birthday and I know it is not Christmas."

"Oh, no, Mr. Spock." Uhura smiled at him. "Peter saw this item on display and he thought it was perfect for you to wear for the party tomorrow night, and as I whole heartedly agreed with him, he bought it for you. Go get it, Peter."

The child brought in the package and presented it to Spock with a slight flourish. "If you don't like it, you may return it Mr. Spock," Peter told him.

It is not logical, thought Spock, as he took the package, to feel such pleasure at the child's thoughtfulness.

"I am sure whatever you chose will be esthetically pleasing and," he paused, "of course I shall…. like it."

He slowly opened the parcel to find a finely woven tunic of some silken material. It was so soft that it slipped through his hands as he touched it. The color was a rich, deep, dark brown, with embroidered motifs of gold, rust, and orange threads, at collar and cuffs. Its rich hue was reminiscent of the magnificent Vulcan mountains as the sun set behind them. It was very beautiful, the workmanship intricate and inspired. Spock looked at it silently for a long moment.

"Don't you like it Mr. Spock?" The soft childish voice was a little anxious.

McCoy sat watching Spock silently. Jim, coming in, saw the little silent tableau and glanced quizzically at the doctor. McCoy caught the glance and shrugged.

Spock looked at the child's anxious hazel eyes, his fingers gently caressing the fabric. He spoke very softly. "Yes, Peter, I do. I like it very much. It is very beautiful, I will treasure it always and I shall be honored to wear it tomorrow night to the Captain's party."

Peter nodded and gave Spock a relieved smile. He was well pleased at the reception of his gift.

McCoy cleared his throat noisily and glanced at Jim. For once he was at a loss for words. He coughed and tried again. "Well, I like that. Spock gets a present and I don't?" he looked at Peter with mournful eyes. "What am I , chopped liver or somethin'? Don't I get anything?" he asked sadly.

Peter grinned and looked at Uhura whose brown eyes were dancing with mischief. "Of course you do, Dr. McCoy. I bought something special just for you. Look at this." He reached down into a shopping bag and brought out a small, comical looking brown bear wearing Star Fleet doctor's garb. On the front of the bear's tunic it said, BEARLY A., DOCTOR.

"Very appropriate," murmured Spock.

Jim laughed at the expression on McCoy's face. "And what about me?" he asked Peter, "after all, I do have some rights, I am the The Uncle of record around here, or has everyone forgotten that important fact."

"Oh yes, " Uhura chuckled, "don't think for a minute we would forget you, Jim. We found something very special just for you. Look." She brought out another bear, this one very solemn and dignified in appearance. It was absolutely naked except for a tenne Star Fleet Sash which had printed on it 'A. BEAR, CAPTAIN' in big bold letters.

They all laughed at Jim's expression and even Spock quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

"I think that Spock got the best of this deal, don't you, Bones?' Jim asked ruefully.

McCoy, fondling his little bear, grinned and nodded.

"I bought one more thing, Uncle Jim." Peter said. From the shopping bag, he took out a small chess set and put it on the table. "I thought one of you could teach me how to play. I'm old enough to learn to play." He looked at his uncle expectantly.

Jim's eyes questioned Spock. Spock nodded. "I shall be honored to instruct you, Peter. We can begin this evening with the names of the pieces and the first rudimentary moves," he said. "I do not think it will take you long to master the rules of play and some opening moves."

They had a quiet dinner at the apartment with Spock again acting as chef. Afterward, Jim lit the fire in the fireplace and Peter brought out his new chess board and set up a small table in front of the hearth. Uhura got out the lyre she had brought with her and Jim poured some brandy into the coffee he set out for her, Bones and himself. He drifted over to the window, listening to Uhura's soft lovely voice singing an old Irish Ballad.

"I am a young maiden and my story is sad

For once I was courted by a brave sailor lad.

He courted me strongly by night and by day,

But now my dear sailor is gone far away.

If I was a blackbird I'd whistle and sing,

And I'd follow the ship that my true love sails

And on top of the riggings I'd there build a nest,

And I'd pillow my head on his lily white breast."

Jim looked out at the magnificent view. Golden Bay Bridge was lit with tiny iridescent pearls that glowed like fireflies in the distance. He looked up at the sky searching for the running lights of his ship, although he knew he would not be able to see her through the haze. Then he turned his gaze back to those in the living room. Bones, coffee cup in hand, his blue eyes alight in the glow of the fire talking softly to Uhura; Spock and Peter deep in concentration over the chess board, their voices a soft murmur; Uhura, darkly beautiful, looking down at her lyre, her lashes casting mysterious shadows on her cheekbones. Spock looked up and caught the glance and Jim lifted his cup in a silent toast, smiling. He was utterly content.


	4. Chapter 3

Hostages

Chapter 3

The day of the Captain's party dawned foggy and cold, but McCoy reported that the fog would burn off by mid morning and it would warm up considerably. He had been up very early, contentedly puttering about in his bare feet and listening to the weather forecast.

Spock had set his internal clock to wake him up at 0600 and Jim had decided to sleep in until 0700, a seldom indulged luxury. As he awoke, he glanced over at Peter's cot and saw that he was still fast asleep. He silently slipped on his slippers and grabbed his clothes and went to take his shower. Uhura's door was still closed .

McCoy programmed the food synthesizer for fruit juice, but he had gone out early and bought eggs, milk, fruit, bread and jam so Peter could have fresh food for breakfast. He set the table and filled the glasses with the fruit juice and started the coffee. He hummed the old show tune, 'Oh What a Beautiful Morning" under his breath as he worked.

It was the smell of coffee that brought Jim to the table, his hair wet and tousled, his jaw still unshaven. Spock came in too, looking rested and relaxed. He sat down next to his captain and sipped his glass of juice. Jim gulped the hot coffee and his eyes opened wide in surprise. "This is good, Bones. I thought you said you couldn't cook."

McCoy hummed softly, "I'm inspired this morning. Say Jim, I've been meaning to ask you all week, just why are you having this party. You're not known around Fleet as much of a party animal."

Jim grinned ruefully in agreement. "I know Bones, but actually it was Admiral Nogura who suggested it. He wants me to meet some of the top brass this evening. Something about discussing a possible assignment for next year when our five-year mission is over. You know how much I hate that sort of thing, but when the big boss asks for a party, he gets a party."

Spock looked at his captain, his face troubled. "Jim, it seems logical to surmise that the Admiral has already made plans for your future. It would be well to consider very carefully any proposals he might suggest. You are best suited for Starship command, and any other assignment would be a waste of your talent and experience."

"For once I agree with Spock, Jim. Don't let that ole' fox Nogura talk you into anything. He can be mighty persuasive."

"Bones, you two are jumping the gun just a little aren't you? I have absolutely no intention of giving up my ship and two years is a long time. Anything can happen, and probably will."

Jim moved restlessly in his chair. He looked at the normally impassive, but now grave face of his first officer and decided to change the subject. He had absolutely no desire to discuss his future right now.

"Spock, were you able to contact Sarek and Amanda last night? How are they and what brings them Earth from Vulcan?" asked Jim?

McCoy blinked at the sudden switch in the conversation, but Spock looked at his captain knowingly, acknowledging Jim's wish for another topic of conversation.

"Yes, Jim. They are well and sent you and the doctor greetings. They will both be pleased to attend the gathering tonight. Possibly it will be the only time I will see my father." He paused, then went on. "My father is here to vote on the admission of Orion to the Federation Council. There is much controversy both in the Council and on Orion itself over admission." He hesitated slightly and then went on, "as you know, Orion is an immature society, still fierce and warlike. The two factions in power are diametrically opposed in their philosophies and admission is very much in question. The referendum to join the council passed by a very narrow margin on Orion and there is still much dissention among the people about the question of admission. There has been much debate in Council because of this."

"There's always debate in Council, Spock, that's nothing new, but in what ways do the two factions differ so radically?" interrupted McCoy. "I tend to agree that the Orions are fierce and warlike, but from the little I know of them they seem to have a strong code of honor and are highly developed technologically. "

"Yes, they are that, Doctor. But it seems that the conservative and larger faction thinks Orion is ready to give up its neutrality and some of its antiquated social and sexual mores to take its place in the Federation Council. They contend it would benefit Orion to have its interests heard by so large a group as the Council and they also want to enlarge their trade status with many other advanced worlds."

Spock leaned on the table and steeped his fingers as he explained. "Orion is a planet rich in natural resources and they have vast technological wealth to share with other worlds. However, their warrior culture makes it difficult for them to approach other cultures, to compromise in trade agreements, or share what they have. As a result, they badly need expertise that the Federation would be able to offer in medicine, agriculture, education and sexual equality. Many of their people die young due to war and disease and poor medical care, others are indentured or enslaved because of poverty. There is much illiteracy among the young and there are very few and very ill-equipped schools. The middle class and wealthy send their children off world to be educated. The Orions have vast areas of arable land that could be made productive, but all their wealth and technological growth thus far has come from space flight and weaponry."

Spock sighed for the vagaries of the Orion mentality and continued his lecture. "The other faction, and it is a smaller though more vocal and militant group, asserts that joining the Federation would destroy Orion. This group contends that Orion would lose its autonomy; the warrior culture would be diluted and destroyed, and that the Federation would take advantage of Orion's natural resources and give little or nothing in return. It is this faction that the Federation holds responsible for the acts of piracy and kidnapping that have been reported to us. Piracy, slavery, and kidnapping are the crimes most common to Orion warriors."

"Apparently," Spock added, "in their history they achieved their ends through those means." He paused and glanced at Jim's set face. The captain had been unusually silent throughout Spock's discourse and his eyes were hard and angry as he met Spock's glance.

"I have no sympathy for Orion ambitions, Spock. It was because of them that you almost died of Choriocytosis when they stole the Strobolin that you needed."

Jim spoke coldly. He remembered all too well how close Spock had come to dying and shuddered when he thought of what they had all gone through to get the drug in the nick of time. The memory of McCoy's 'ten more minutes and it would have been too late,' still sent cold chills down his spine. He reached out and touched Spock's arm as if to reassure himself that his friend was here, alive and well.

"Jim," Spock chided him gently, "it is illogical in the extreme to hold a whole planet responsible for the acts of a few. And I am here, alive and well." As usual, Spock had read the thought without effort.

"No thanks to the Orions," muttered Jim.

"Spock, how do you think Sarek will vote?" asked McCoy, looking at the captain's grim face and trying to distract him.

"He will vote for the most logical and beneficial option, Doctor. Sarek has studied the question for some time now, and I am very sure he has reached a decision."

"But you don't know what it is, right?" needled McCoy.

"I believe that is what I just said, Dr. McCoy," Spock answered patiently.

"Well, Sarek's vote carries a lot of weight on the council floor. You know that old saying, 'As Vulcan goes, so goes the Council,' "Jim added thoughtfully, distracted at last from his recollection of Spock's near death.

"Essentially correct, Captain," said Spock, "if rather simple."

"Good morning, all," Uhura's quiet voice interrupted their reverie as she came in with Peter. "Peter and I are ready for a very, very large breakfast, aren't we Peter?"

"I am very hungry, Uncle Jim." Peter sidled up to stand close to his uncle and eyed his plate of scrambled eggs.

Jim put his arm around the child and hugged him tight. "It's playing chess with Mr. Spock that does it, Peter. I always feel I could eat a horse after I beat Spock in chess."

"Then it's fortunate for that life form, Captain, that you do not win very often." Spock spoke with that faint suggestion of a smile that was all he ever permitted himself to show to the world.

Jim grinned at Peter. "I do win sometimes, Peter." He chuckled and threw Spock a wicked look. "It's just that Mr. Spock hasn't gotten used to it yet."

"Sit down here Uhura, you too Peter. Everything's ready, chef McCoy is on the job." McCoy bustled about, setting down plates of food in front of both, and milk for Peter. "Here Uhura, see what you think of my coffee," he placed a large mug in front of her.

"Ahem, people," said Jim. "I have an announcement to make. The cleaning crew will be here at 0900 hours and the caterers will not be here until this evening. So between those hours we're free to do whatever we want. How about taking Peter to see the sights of San Francisco? We can come back around 1700 hours to shower, get dressed, and to do whatever." He looked at them expectantly. "Is everyone in agreement?"

Everybody was. They all hurried off to get dressed, except for Spock who was, or course, ready. As Jim dressed, he thought again of the Orion issue. He still felt strangely uneasy over the question of admission, but then he thought_, I don't have to worry about it._ _That question, thank God, is in the hands of the politicians and not in mine. _

The door chimes rang softly and Peter ran to answer the door. Scotty, Chekov, and Sulu stood there, all three beaming, looking clear-eyed and chipper. It was clear that shore leave agreed with them, and they were ready for more fun. Invitation was given and promptly accepted for the Kirk San Francisco guided tour, James T. Kirk, acting tour guide.

It was a large and merry group that made its way to the wharf to see the old sailing vessels kept there for the public to enjoy. Peter was amazed to see all the different types of ships perfectly preserved for so many years. His Uncle Jim knew all about them too, and he led Peter through several different types, small sloops, to large schooners, explaining the advantages and disadvantages of each and the intricacies of their rigging. At noon, tired and hungry, they voted and decided to stay at the wharf for lunch. It was a delicious, if messy affair of fresh buttered lobster which dribbled down Dr. McCoy's tunic, but which he said was worth it.

Afterward, they went to Golden Gate Park, and to the Natural History Museum. Peter was claimed in turn by a different group of two or three, who wanted him to see this or that. His delight in everything was contagious, and the adults saw old things new again through his eyes.

San Francisco had captivated visitors since the 1700's and these space voyagers were not immune to the beauty and charm of the old city.

It was altogether a wonderful day. Peter said tiredly, but blissfully, that he would remember it even when he was a very, very old man.


	5. Chapter 4

Hostages

Chapter 4

When they returned to the apartment, it was late afternoon. The cleaners had come and gone and everything was spotless. The wood furniture glowed softly in the late afternoon sun and through the bay window the bay water seemed so close that you could almost reach out to dip your feet in the surf. The caterers arrived and with swift efficiency began bringing in the food and setting up the buffet table. A bar was also set up in the corner of the living room. When they finished, Jim surveyed his domain with pleasure. Everything looked absolutely splendid.

McCoy and Spock came in from dressing, and they each inspected the other. Spock wore the tunic that Peter had given him above fawn colored trousers and brown dress boots. The gold IDIC symbol showed on his breast. McCoy was in black trousers, black boots, and a blue tunic, "to match your eyes," teased Jim. Jim, himself, was in a light green tabard trimmed in gold and wore dark moss green trousers and black boots. McCoy and Kirk smiled at each other. "Vanity, thy name is man," paraphrased McCoy, looking smug.

"Well, we do look pretty dammed good," said Jim. "Don't you think so, Spock?"

"Captain, vanity is an unappealing vice in humans to which Vulcans are not susceptible. However, I will concur that we look esthetically pleasing in our attire."

"Huh, he thinks we look great too, Jim," McCoy snorted. "He just won't admit it. Vulcan, thy name is party pooper," growled McCoy.

"Uncle Jim, we're ready," called Peter from the doorway where he stood with Uhura at his side.

A slow smile traveled across Jim's face as he looked at the two dressed in their party finery. Peter wore a forest green tunic with silver embroidered trim at his cuffs. He had on dark brown trousers and soft brown boots. His hair was brushed and his hazel eyes glowed with excitement.

Uhura looked magnificent in a gown of gold shadowed silk, long and flowing to the floor in hundreds of tiny pleats which shimmered as she moved. Her arms and neck were bare, but she wore long amber earrings and gold cuff bracelets on both arms. Her dark skin glowed golden and her hair had been combed high off her neck and was held with a gilded comb.

McCoy gave an appreciative whistle and Uhura smiled demurely at him.

"Uhura, I've never seen you look more beautiful," said Jim.

"You will be the cynosure of all eyes, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, Jim, and you too, Mr. Spock," said Uhura.

"Peter, you look great too. I wish your grandmother could see you now.

"Oh no, Uncle Jim," Peter protested. "She'd kiss me, and fix my hair, and junk like that."

They all laughed at the look of alarm on Peter's face. "Well," said his uncle, "we'll take some holos to send to her. She would never forgive me if I didn't."

The doorbell chimed, and with a flourish, Jim offered his arm to Uhura and they went to greet the first party guests.

Kevin Riley, Christine Chapel, and Dr. M'Benga were the first of the Enterprise crew to arrive. Then Scotty, Chekov, and Sulu, came in looking resplendent in their dress uniforms. Compliments were given and exchanged freely all around.

More and more guests began to arrive, until the room was throbbing with faint music from the sound system, laughter and conversation. Uhura excused herself from the Enterprise group to mingle with some of the guests whom she had not seen since her last shore leave in San Francisco. Peter was being introduced to all and sundry by Dr. McCoy, and Spock was in a corner talking to a science officer from Star Fleet operations about the new rumored Transwarp Drive.

As the crowd thickened, Jim looked around for Peter, and saw the little boy surrounded by three very pretty young ladies. He was handling all the attention with aplomb and a certain savoir faire that boded well for his future. He saw Uhura in conversation with the caterers and more food being brought to the buffet table.

Smiling to himself, Jim heard the door chimes again, and glancing at Uhura, went to answer the door. He opened it and found himself face to face with Admiral Nogura, Commander Starfleet, and with him, three other military types. All four stood there smiling broadly at Jim.

"Admiral Nogura, welcome, it's an honor to have you in my home. Please come in, sir." Jim clasped Nogura's hand.

"Oh, oh, he thought, you better watch it James T. Scuttlebutt around Fleet has it that when the normally inscrutable Nogura smiles, the old man is at his most dangerous and in his most persuasive mood. He wants something, and for sure I'm not going to like it. McCoy's and Spock's warning came back to him now as he shook hands with the other three admirals.

"Jim," said Nogura, "I'd like to introduce Admirals Rankin, Castillo and Tao. Gentlemen, this is Captain James T. Kirk, Commander of the famous Enterprise."

"A pleasure gentlemen. Please make yourselves at home." Jim led them into the living room. "Food and drinks are over there; help yourselves to whatever you want. I'm sure you know many of my guests, so please mingle as you wish." He started to move away, but Nogura's upraised hand stopped him. "Captain, when you have a free minute we'd like to discuss something with you." Jim looked sharply at the bland Asian face, but he could read absolutely nothing there.

Nogura went on smoothly, "Basically, it's a proposal the Admiralty is prepared to offer you in regard to you future in Star Fleet. We'd like to discuss it with you, in a very preliminary way, of course, and see what your thoughts are on the matter. Of course, this conversation is unofficial and off the record, so you can be as frank and forthright about your feelings as you would like." His hand, the pressure slight but definite, was now on Jim's arm restraining him from walking away.

Across the room, Spock surveyed the crowd, looked around for Jim and saw Nogura's restraining hand on the captain's arm. He abruptly excused himself to the lieutenant and made his way rapidly to Kirk's side and stood there sill and silent at his elbow, his dark gaze on Nogura.

The cavalry has arrived, thought Jim with some relief. "Gentlemen, I think you know my First Officer, Commander Spock. Kirk glanced at Spock's set face and could almost feel the weight of his opposition to Nogura's presence. He gave Spock what he hoped was a reassuring smile, and the doorbell chimed again.

"Excuse me gentlemen. Admiral, perhaps later we can discuss what you have in mind. Meanwhile, my duties as host must take precedence."

He steered Spock away from Nogura and to the door. "Don't worry, Spock, I won't let him talk me into anything."

"Vulcans do not worry, Captain," said Spock, his eyes belying his words. "However, as you well know, Admiral Nogura is not a man to take no for an answer. He usually gets what he wants."

"So do I, Spock, so do I," said Jim, a bit grimly.

He opened the door to see Ambassador Sarek and Lady Amanda of Vulcan standing there.

'Ambassador, Lady Amanda, please come in. Welcome to my home, it's an honor to have you here."

As always he felt a little awed by the commanding presence of Sarek, but he was genuinely delighted to see Amanda again. Spock's mother fascinated and perplexed him. An earth woman who had made a success of marriage with a Vulcan was someone to be reckoned with and someone he wanted to get to know better. Amanda looked serene and lovely in a lilac gown of severe simplicity made of some rich velvet material that whispered softly as she walked.

"Father, Mother, you both look well." Spock greeted his parents with the traditional Vulcan embrace, crossed hands, palms out touching.

"My son," Sarek looked with some satisfaction at Spock. It was not so long ago that he and Spock had been estranged over Spock's choice of career in Star Fleet. But now they were reconciled, a family once again.

"Spock," Amanda said, "you're too thin. My dear, are you eating enough or are you working too hard?"

"Mother, I am consuming a sufficient number of calories, and no, I am not working too hard."

Spock and Sarek exchanged rueful glances, acknowledging the inevitability and illogic of the questions, but resigned to Amanda's ever present concern for her two men.

Amanda smiled lovingly at her son. "All right, Spock, if you're sure." "Captain," she turned to Jim. "We were most pleased to accept your invitation. This might be our only opportunity to see Spock…so for that alone we are grateful." She took the arm Jim offered her and they made their way through the crowd, leaving Spock and Sarek behind.

"I'm so happy to have you here, Lady Amanda. I can never forget the kindness you showed me when I visited your home." Jim's voice grew husky as he remembered his pain at the end of that mission. The Time Guardian, the search for the crazed McCoy, and Edith back in time on earth and lost to him in the City on the Edge of Forever.

Amanda pressed his hand in wordless sympathy as she too, remembered his sorrow.

"And," Jim cleared his throat, and went on more cheerfully, "although Spock would never admit it, I know he is very happy to see you and Sarek."

"I know," she agreed simply, looking over at her husband and son deep in conversation and at peace with each other.

McCoy came up to them with Peter in hand. "Lady Amanda! It's a pleasure to see you again. How is Sarek? I hope all is well with him." He smiled at her and pressed her hand warmly.

"Dr. McCoy, it's so good to see you also." She looked him gratefully. This was the man who had saved her husband's life on the famous journey to Babel, and he held a special place in her heart. "Sarek is very well as you will see for yourself. He has resumed all his Ambassadorial duties once again." She noticed the child by his side. "And who is this young man?" she asked, smiling down at the boy.

"Lady Amanda, this is my nephew Peter. Peter, this is Mr. Spock's mother, Lady Amanda, of Vulcan."

Peter looked up at the lovely serene face, and expertly gave her the Vulcan salute. Amanda gravely returned it, and then gently took Peter's hand in her own.

"Peter, I am so happy to meet you. I didn't know Captain Kirk had a nephew. You know, Peter," she added confidingly, bending down a little towards the child, "I think your uncle is a wonderful man. He saved my husband's reputation and his career." She smiled at the captain who looked slightly abashed by this praise.

Peter looked wide eyed at his uncle. "What did you do, Uncle Jim?" he asked eagerly.

Amanda noticed the slight flush on Jim's cheekbones and took pity on the embarrassed captain. She turned to Peter and said, "Come, let's go and sit over there and I'll tell you all about it, it's quite a story. " She led the child over to the sofa and they sat down.

Jim frowned at McCoy, "I hope she doesn't exaggerate the story." McCoy smiled knowingly at Jim's discomfiture. Kirk hated for people to applaud his achievements and never talked about them to anyone. To those who knew him well, this strange shyness was one of his most endearing and likeable qualities.

The party was in full swing. Scotty and Christine Chapel stood by the bar and observed the milling crowd.

"You know, Scotty, this is a great party," said Christine happily munching on a fresh shrimp.

"Aye, lass, and himself is enjoyin' it mightily. Don't know when last I saw him so relaxed and at ease."

Christine nodded, looking at the smiling captain standing with McCoy. There was quite a crowd. She glanced across the room and saw Sulu in a corner with a lovely young redhead deep in conversation.

Sulu had bumped into Ensign Marie Bridges at the door. Her gorgeous red hair had attracted his attention immediately. He lost little time in introducing himself and had now succeeded in isolating her by the bay window corner.

"Mr. Sulu, is it true that Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock stole the cloaking device from the Romulans and that's how Fleet got it?" Ensign Bridges cheeks were as red as her hair, and her shining eyes were fixed on Sulu's face.

Sulu beamed back at her. "It's all true, Marie. The Enterprise crew received a commendation for that mission." He took her hand and looked deep into her beautiful green eyes.

At the buffet table, Kevin Riley felt just fine. The food kept being replenished as if by magic and all fresh too. He had already had three helpings of everything and he was still hungry. He told himself that opportunities such as these were rare, and he owed it to himself to eat as much as possible and take advantage of them.

Uhura looked around. The party was going quite well. The captain should be very pleased she thought. Everyone was having a wonderful time. Then she noticed absently that Admiral Nogura and his three companions had cornered Jim and were talking earnestly to him. Jim kept shaking his head, and suddenly he did not look happy. I wish I was a little fly on the wall, she thought. What can be causing Jim to frown like that? Trouble for sure.

Spock, deep in conversation with his father, was nevertheless aware of Jim off in a corner with Nogura. His quick glance also took in the frown on the captain's face.

"Father, the issue is complex. Have you reached a decision as to your vote?"

"Yes, Spock, I have. I will vote for admission. It is the most beneficial option for the Orions and for all concerned." Sarek pitched his voice so that only Vulcan ears could hear it.

Sarek's eyes followed his son's distracted gaze across the room to the angry face of his captain, and glancing at his son's grave face, he turned and purposely began making his way to Nogura, leaving Spock to follow in his wake.

Sarek heard Kirk saying, "Absolutely not, Admiral. I would never give up Starship command. You know how I feel about administration, and no offense sir, about administrators in general. My ship and my crew are my life. I could never be happy doing anything else." There was a faint belligerent tone in his voice.

"Jim, we're just asking you to consider it. You still have a year and a half left of your five year mission. You might feel differently by then. Fleet and the Admiralty need men like you. Men who know what it's like 'out there' and who can get things done; who are examples to those who think that space exploration has had its day. You can be the spokesperson for space." Nogura had never sounded so earnest and sincere.

"Sir," Spock's calm voice interrupted. "It is illogical in the extreme to take a successful starship commander and put him in a position not suited either to his talents or his temperament."

"My son is correct, Admiral." Sarek said. "Individual talents and inclinations are not to be tampered with lightly. There may be consequences to be regretted later." His glance rested on his son.

Nogura looking very annoyed, opened his mouth to respond to the two Vulcans, but Amanda's clear voice interrupted.

"Sarek, here you are." She came up to the group with Peter in hand. "I've been looking for you. I want you to meet Captain Kirk's nephew, Peter. Peter, this is Ambassador Sarek. He is my husband and Mr. Spock's father." She drew the little boy forward for Sarek to see.

Sarek looked down and saw a sturdy little boy with the same determined chin, hazel eyes and fair hair as his uncle. Peter's eyes met Sarek's dark ones steadily and he once again gave the formal Vulcan salute. "Live long and prosper, Mr. Sarek," he said politely.

"You do your uncle honor with your courtesy, Peter. He is a fine commander and did me a great service once on board his ship," Sarek told the child as he returned the salute.

Sarek, like all Vulcans, cherished children. Vulcans considered this both logical and wise, for children were the future. He observed that this child had a poise and maturity unusual in a human child of his age, and wondered what experiences had called them forth.

Yes, sir, Lady Amanda told me about what happened on board the ship."

"Mr. Spock," Peter tugged at Spock's tunic for him to bend down, "Your father looks like you," he whispered into the elegantly pointed ear.

Spock's eyebrow ascended into his bangs. "It would be more correct to say that I look like my father, but yes, there is a family resemblance," he responded softly.

Jim repressed a grin. No one on board the ship would have dared whisper in Spock's ear like Peter was doing. He hoped McCoy had not missed it. He caught Uhura's glance, nodded, and clinked his glass for attention. The crowd quieted down to hear.

"Friends, I hope everyone is enjoying themselves. It's a great pleasure to have all of you here in my home. Please gather around, because we have a wonderful treat in store for us. Lt. Uhura has consented to sing for us, and she will be accompanied by Mr. Spock on the lyre and guitar. Uhura?"

Uhura took her place by the bay window and Spock came over to sit beside her on the bay window seat. She handed him her lyre and guitar. The lights from The Bridge and Space Port glowed softly behind her.

"Thank you, Captain. Mr. Spock and I hope you will enjoy our selections. This first one is an ancient folk song, called 'The Minstrel Boy'. Its popularity has lasted for hundreds of years, mainly because it evokes a sense of devotion to one's country. In ancient times it was an anthem for patriotism and was adopted by military, fire regiments and police departments." She nodded to Spock and her lovely voice rang out strongly.

"The minstrel boy to the war is gone,  
In the ranks of death you will find him;  
His father's sword he hath girded on,  
And his wild harp slung behind him;

"Land of Song!" cried the warrior bard,  
"Tho' all the world betrays thee,  
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,  
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"

The Minstrel fell but the foeman's chain  
Could not bring that proud soul under;  
The harp he loved never spoke again,  
For he tore its chords asunder;

And said "No chains shall sully thee,  
Thou soul of love and bravery!  
Thy songs were made for the pure and free  
They shall never sound in slavery!"

When she finished, there was a moment of silent tribute, and then the applause rang out strongly. Uhura smiled and bowed, pleased at the reception of one of her favorite folk songs.

"I think you will all recognize this next one," she smiled at Spock, who took up the guitar for the opening bars of the well loved song,

"The loveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly gay  
The glory that was Rome is of another day  
I've been terribly alone and forgotten in Manhattan  
I'm going home to my city by the bay

I left my heart in San Francisco  
High on a hill, it calls to me  
To be where little cable cars climb halfway to the stars  
The morning fog may chill the air, I don't care."1

The sudden intrusive whine of a transporter interrupted and startled them all. They all turned in the direction of the sound to see five men materialize by the door. They were all dressed in unrelieved black from heard to foot, and Jim was stunned to see that they carried phaser rifles. Only their eyes were visible through slitted, black face masks.

"NO ONE WILL MOVE!" A harsh hoarse voice rang out through the room.

Shocked conversation stopped abruptly as others became aware of the men, and the room suddenly became deathly still. At a guttural command from one of the men, the five spread themselves apart moving and nudging the guests roughly into the center of the room.

Jim was the first to recover his scattered wits. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my home?" he demanded furiously.

"You will not speak, Captain James Kirk. Our mission is not with you." The harsh voice spoke again. "We will speak with Sarek of Vulcan."

"I am Sarek of Vulcan," the calm unruffled voice beside Jim spoke. "What is it you wish to say to me?"

McCoy's voice interrupted. "Jim, what's going on here? Who are these people?" He tried to push his way through the crowd toward Jim, and was shoved roughly back by one of the men.

"Bones, just stay where you are!" Jim's voice cracked like a whip.

Peter whimpered softly, and Amanda tightened her hand around the child's fingers.

Sarek ignored the interruptions, and repeated, "What is it you wish to say to me?"

"You will know in due time what we wish you to do and say, Sarek of Vulcan. Now it is time for you to know only this. We will remove your son and your wife from this place." At his invisible command, one of the men pointed the phaser rifle at Spock and Amanda. "If it is in your mind to resist or fight, others here will die."

Instantly, Amanda released Peter's hand. "Go to your Uncle Jim, dear." She gave him a gentle push in the direction of the captain.

"STAY!" the rifle moved to point to Peter's head.

Instantly, Jim felt sweat break out from every pore. He tensed his muscles to jump and willed Peter to stay still. He felt, suddenly, Spock's iron grip on his arm. DON'T MOVE! The thought burned in his brain.

"The child is not of our family," Spock's voice had that particularly toneless quality that he used only when he was very moved or very worried.

The leader spoke thoughtfully. "But I can see that he is very important to you, to all of you." His eyes roamed the crowd and noted the tense, white faces, all eyes riveted on the little boy.

Jim's face was bone white, and with an effort that felt as if it would break something, he turned his head to look at Spock. What he saw there decided him. He made no further move under Spock's still restraining hand.

Sarek spoke again. "He is a human child, and I have never met him before tonight. Therefore he can be of no use to you."

"I have observed that humans and Vulcans place much value on children. He might be useful. We will take him as well. It is time. Move!" The phaser rifle nudges Spock and Amanda with Peter to stand by the leader. Spock bent and picked Peter up and held him in his arms. He felt the child tremble and tightened his hold.

Beside him, Jim felt Sarek's body twitch once in an uncontrollable protest, but the movement was almost instantly checked.

The man spoke again in his guttural language, which the Universal Translator was apparently unable to decipher, and as suddenly as they had come, the shimmer of the transporter took them. The last thing Jim saw before they disappeared was Spock's grim face and Peter's frightened hazel eyes.

"

1 Copyright 1923 Music by George Corey (1920-1978)

Lyrics by Douglass Cross (1920-1975)


	6. Chapter 5

Hostages

Chapter 5

All hell broke loose in the apartment. There had been very little time to react when the men appeared, but now some one screamed, a high hysterical sound, and there was pandemonium and the sudden babble of loud voices.

McCoy frantically pushed his way towards Jim. He saw that Kirk's eyes looked shocked and dazed.

"Bones, my God, they took Peter! Why, what do they want? Who are they? Bones, they have Peter!" Jim's face looked pale and stunned, his voice sounded bewildered. There was raw fear in his eyes too, fear for the child's safety.

"Jim, Jim, listen to me. Listen!" McCoy grabbed hold of his stunned captain and shook him hard. "I don't know what they want, but we'll get him back. Jim, I promise you, we'll get them all back. Jim, do you hear?"

Jim took a deep shuddering breath. He looked into McCoy's blazing blue eyes and after a long moment, slowly nodded his head.

McCoy's own hands were slippery with sweat, but he felt relief that the dazed, stunned look was gone from Kirk's eyes and awareness had returned.

Jim Kirk saw his own terrible anxiety reflected in the doctor's face, and he gripped McCoy's hands gratefully. Healer hands that communicated support and strength.

"I'm ok, Bones, I'm ok, Thanks." He shook his head as if to clear it, found it didn't help much and turned to the also stunned Nogura. "Admiral?" Jim questioned urgently, deferring to his commander.

He saw Nogura visibly pull himself together. "People!" Nogura's usually soft voice rang out with all the collective authority of Star Fleet behind it. "Quiet please! We need order, and we must stay calm and find answers to this outrage. Everyone please stay where you are until we can speak with each of you. We'll try to piece every scrap of information together until we have something, anything, to help figure this out."

He turned to Kirk. "Captain, can you organize your people to begin questioning everyone?"

Jim Kirk's years of command training reasserted itself as he thought furiously of ways and means. "Yes, sir, right away. Chapel, Scotty, Sulu, let's get these people organized into groups for questioning. Chekov, find a few tricorders and pads some where, ask Enterprise to beam some down if necessary. Uhura, set up a communications and command station link to the ship. Scramble it. Notify the Fleet Security Chief that any outgoing ships, barges, transports, anything that moves off this planet has to be searched bow to stern," he ordered rapidly. "And Uhura, 'need to know' only."

Admiral Nogura grimaced, he had not thought of that. It was very possible that the kidnappers might try to remove the hostages off the planet.

Kirk addressed the still stunned and waiting group. "No one is to leave this room until after you give your statement and you've received permission from either the Admiral or me. Is that understood?" Everyone nodded, relief in their faces. They all wanted to do something, anything to help.

Jim turned to Sarek, McCoy and the four Admirals. "Gentlemen," he said, "if we could find some place a little more private. I think we need some basic questions answered fast."

He led them into the library and closed the door on the noise and turmoil in the living room. The sudden silence was disconcerting.

Bones moved to pour a brandy from the flask Jim kept on his desk. "Here Jim, drink this. It's medicinal." Jim took it without protest and raised the glass to his lips. He noted dispassionately that his fingers were trembling and that he had to grasp the glass with both hands to drink it. The fiery liquid went down and gave a little warmth to his cold body.

He glanced at Sarek, who had remained silent and impassive throughout the incident. Sarek returned the look. "There is no shame, Captain, in your anxiety for your nephew. I, too, am concerned for the welfare of my wife and son."

Jim drew in a deep breath. "Sir, the only thing that's helping me right now is the knowledge that Peter is with Spock. No matter what, Spock won't let anything happen to Peter. I know that, I feel it!"

Sarek nodded. He had learned throughout his many years of association with humans, not to discount these 'hunches' that seem to appear out of no where. His own personal experience with Amanda had also taught him that these 'feelings' although illogical on the surface, were often rooted in the rational.

"Gentlemen, let's sit down. We have a lot of questions and I hope we can arrive at some answers." Jim pushed his terrible anxiety to the back of his mind. He must try to think clearly. "First of all, who the hell are these people and what do they want? Sarek, apparently it has something to do with you, that much I gathered from what the leader said to you. He singled you out right away."

"Yes, Captain, you are correct. If I may," Sarek responded. "I believe that these men are Orions. Once I heard the leader speak, I recognized the language as an obscure variant of the current Orion warrior dialect. It is archaic and has not been used in many centuries, so the Universal Translator was unable to render it into Standard. I could only understand a word here and there, as it is quite different from the formal Orion language."

Sarek spoke very quietly and calmly, but Jim could see the tension in his body and in the hard set of his jaw.

"So we know they're Orions. No wonder they were covered from head to foot, no green skin showing." Nogura said. "What else."

"We can also surmise that they have very advanced and expensive equipment. They were able to by-pass building security and beam five men, all at the same time, directly into the living room with pin point accuracy," said McCoy. "That's a pretty amazin' degree of accuracy. However, we have no way of knowing the range of their transporter. They could have come from anywhere and taken Peter, Spock and Amanda anywhere."

"Also, it's clear that they knew about the captain's party and that the Ambassador and Lady Amanda would be here. It's also obvious they knew the floor plan of your apartment, Captain, since they knew exactly where to beam in, and they know who you are, your name and rank. That, I'm afraid implies an efficient intelligence network, and a possible spy or spies within Star Fleet. Fleet staff records and home address are encrypted and are not ever public information," Admiral Castillo said angrily. "Whoever put this plan together is no amateur, we're dealing with professionals, and it was a perfectly executed plan, so I bet a lot of credits exchanged hands to get that information."

Jim wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. He felt the knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach again, but forced himself to concentrate, pacing back and forth in the library.

"Bones, remember what Spock said earlier? That the Orion fanatic fringe specializes in piracy and kidnapping. He told us that they traditionally use these tactics to achieve their ends. I feel pretty sure that's who these men are….which also means that we're dealing with ruthless fanatics."

"Captain," Sarek said, "we must also assume I will be contacted again shortly. Whatever demands they have in mind, I feel sure they will communicate them to me quickly. The Orion said I would be instructed about what I was to do. I am sure it has to do with the Council vote on Orion Admission. As you are all aware," he added, "Vulcans do not negotiate with terrorists. It is a matter of policy as well as principle with us. Therefore, gentlemen, it is urgent that we rescue them as quickly as possible, before the Council convenes and before the Orions become aware of this and kill the hostages."

Admiral Nogura interjected softly, "Damn it to hell, it's Spock who is in the greatest danger. In situations like this it's the military hostages who are more at risk….," he stopped abruptly as he saw that dawning realization in Kirk's face.

That realization had also come to Sarek. Despite the impassivity of the Vulcan face, his eyes had a haunted look and his skin had paled to a greenish grey.

McCoy burst out angrily, "This is monstrous, what in the hell are we going to do?" He cast a glowering glance at Nogura, as if the Admiral were personally to blame for the situation. "Innocent people not safe even in their own homes. What is Fleet coming to for God's sakes, when it can't even protect its citizens in their own homes?"

A soft knock at the door interrupted his tirade.

"Come," said Jim.

"Sir," Uhura's compassionate face peeked in. "The communication station is set up, the guests have all gone through preliminary debriefing, and we're ready with the reports. Also, sir, I contacted Star Fleet Security; they report that no ship has left earth. They will search any ship scheduled for departure from now until ordered otherwise."

"Well, that's one piece of good news. That means that they're still on earth somewhere. Come in Uhura, let me see those reports."

She handed him his pad, and touched his arm softly. With her usual efficiency, Uhura had summarized and prioritized all the interviews. most to least important. While the others looked over his shoulder, Jim scanned the report quickly looking for more clues, anything that stood out, something unusual that one of the guests might have seen or heard."

"Look here, Sarek. One of the science people agrees with you about the language variant. He understands a little of the warrior dialect. Perhaps you can speak with him and between the two of you get as complete a transcript as possible of what was said," Jim suggested, "we might get lucky and get some more information."

Sarek nodded in agreement and left.

"Bones, the report says one of the men was left-handed, and that he limped badly. Perhaps an injury of some sort to the leg, or the right side of his body, since witnesses say he didn't use the right arm at all. See if you can get to the Fleet Medical Central computer and check for reports of Orion injuries in any Federation conflict. Maybe he was treated at a medical facility by a Fleet doctor or nurse." Jim felt he was grasping at straws, but it was better than nothing.

"But Jim, it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack," protested McCoy. "There must be hundreds of conflicts between Orions and Federation members, and Orions are not usually treated at Fleet facilities."

"Leonard, just do it!" Jim told him fiercely. "I don't want to hear any arguments." He passed his hand over his eyes. "We have to start somewhere, Bones, and Spock said the medical care on Orion is terrible, so it's possible that if he was injured he would go for medical help somewhere else."

McCoy looked at him, "Ok, Im going, but I'm a doctor not a detective," he muttered.

Kirk turned to Nogura, "Admiral, I suggest we set up a command post here. Any extra help that we need can come from the Enterprise or Fleet, but I trust my people as I do no others."

Nogura nodded. This was as good a place as any and the less people involved the better. Secrecy was all important and could be maintained better here then at Fleet headquarters. He worried that the press would get hold of the story and complicate the situation even more. All hell would break loose if the press got hold of the story.

"Captain, we need to talk to the guests out there. I'm sure they're very anxious to hear what's going on and they'll want to go home. It's very late, "said Admiral Rankin.

Jim looked startled. For a moment he had forgotten the party guests still waiting in his living room. He and the Admirals went back to the living room to face the anxious guests.

"People," Nogura's stern voice rose above the murmur of the crowd and a silence descended in the room as all eyes turned toward the Admiral. "We are going to let everyone go home now. You will all consider this an order. No one, I repeat, no one, is to discuss what happened here tonight either with each other or with anyone else. We must maintain secrecy at all costs. It would be very dangerous for the hostages to do otherwise. Is that understood?"

The guests, looking tired, pale and bedraggled in their wilted party finery, all nodded. As Star Fleet personnel, they were well aware of the ramifications of an act of terrorism. They were also very aware of the consequences of disobeying a direct order from the head of Star Fleet.

Jim added, "if anyone gets an idea, or you remember any thing else, no matter how trivial it may seem to you, please contact us immediately. If my crew will please stay, the rest of you are dismissed with my thanks for your help."

The crowd dispersed quickly and quietly. Some came up to Jim to touch him, to express their wish to help, to lend their support, their soft murmurs of sympathy easing the knot in his stomach a little.

Jim Kirk closed the door on the last of his guests and the three Admirals and turned to face his crew. They, too, looked drained, dispirited and worried, but he knew they would do whatever it took to find the hostages. They were his best, his friends; he would trust this mission to no one else.

"Admiral Nogura has agreed that we form a command station here. Scotty, get started on a link between the ship, Fleet, and here, and Scotty….be careful, 'need to know' only, we don't know where the security breach at Fleet is. Chekov, you and Sulu recruit some more crew. Chapel, you help McCoy with the medical search for the injured Orion. Uhura, you man the comm station. Riley, get on the horn to Fleet Transporter Station to see if you can come up with anything on that transporter. Get Kyle to help you. Before anything else, though, let's get back into our uniforms, please."

The crew scattered to change and start with their respective tasks and Jim turned to Sarek and Nogura. "Now comes the hard part; we have to wait for them to contact you, Sarek." _Waiting, _Jim thought_. I've never been much good with waiting._

Sarek, Nogura, and Jim, faced each other and prepared to do the most difficult thing of all…wait.


	7. Chapter 6

Hostages

Chapter 6

Spock, Amanda and Peter materialized and without the five men, Spock noticed. He put Peter down and glanced quickly around the room and then looked closely at his mother and Peter. Amanda appeared calm and serene as always; Peter looked bewildered and frightened.

Spock put his finger to his lips to indicate silence. He carefully walked around noting every detail of their prison. It was a large room, with white walls, very high ceilings, no door, and three small, very high windows not large enough for an adult to get through or even a small child. He saw a monitoring camera mounted on a corner wall and a communication unit below it. There were two smaller rooms adjoining the large one, an antiquated bathroom and a small room with two beds in it. _So, _thought Spock_, they had not planned for Peter. _The large room they were in had a table with four chairs, a side chair, a small old-fashioned wash basin, and a box with what looked like clothing in it. Everything in the rooms was strictly functional and utilitarian.

"We may speak now, mother, but it's clear we will be monitored closely. Are you both all right?"

Amanda nodded and Peter said, "Yes sir, but I'm scared."

"A logical reaction under the circumstances, Peter."

"Spock, what do you think is going on? Why were we brought here?" Amanda asked.

"I can only speculate at this point, mother, but taking into consideration why father is here in San Francisco, I think these men are Orions, and I also believe this has to do with Orion admission to the Federation Council. If my theory is correct, they will try to force father to vote as they wish by holding us hostages for his vote."

"But," Amanda protested, "your father…."

"Mother," Spock interrupted, "under these circumstances we do not know what father will do." He looked at her warningly.

Amanda subsided. Spock was right. It was better not to discuss Sarek or his Council vote decision now. Amanda knew that Sarek's position as Vulcan's Ambassador would permit no negotiations with terrorists, but it was obvious that either these men didn't know it, or they felt that they could still force Sarek to do what they wanted.

With a click, the holo viewer and the comm-unit came on at the same time. Spock saw the five Orions sitting at a table still dressed in black and with their faces still covered.

One of them, the leader, Spock assumed, spoke. "Mr. Spock. We hope you will be comfortable in these surroundings while we wait for the Council vote. You were all brought here for one reason only. We are well aware of the Ambassador's reputation for ruthless logic in all Federation Council voting questions. He scrupulously weighs all facts and evidence before arriving at a decision. We are merely adding to the weight of his logic to tip the scales in our favor on the question of Orion's admission to the Federation Council." It was the same harsh voice Spock had heard at the party. ""If Ambassador Sarek votes against admission, we will release you mmediately after the vote. If he votes for admission, you will all die here. This fact will be communicated to the Ambassador shortly."

"Meanwhile," he continued. "Is there anything you need? We wish your stay to be a comfortable one for the six days you will be with us."

Spock looked around and deliberated quickly. "It is clear that you did not prepare for the child so we will need another bed or a cot. Also, something for the boy to do, a reader perhaps, some games, a chess set. The child will need proper food and drink, fruit juice and milk preferably, and if possible, some exercise at least once daily. There is also a need for more clothing for him."

The Orion leader nodded. "Your requests are reasonable and we will see to them. It is true we did not expect an added guest, so you will find us somewhat unprepared. However, you can be certain that for the six days you are here, you will be well treated. We are warriors, we are not barbarians. If the vote is in our favor, we want the Ambassador to know that we kept our word. It is possible that you do not know this, but the Ancient Orion Warrior code, while harsh is not primitive. Once a warrior gives his word, only death can release him from his vow. We will confer about your requests." As suddenly as it had come on, the screen went dark.

"Well," said Amanda, "that appears to be that, for a little while at least." She glanced down at the little boy. "Peter dear, you must get some sleep; it's very late and way past your bed time. Let's go in the other room and you can lie down on one of the beds." She took the child's hand and led him to the bed that was in the corner of the room.

Peter looked at her, his hazel eyes wide and appealing. Not for worlds would he confess just how frightened he really was, but Amanda looking at the small pale face, understood. She said softly, "don't worry, Peter, I'll stay right here with you until you fall asleep. It's been a very tiring evening and I'm sure I'll sleep too."

Peter lay down without protest and Amanda sat on the edge of the bed still holding his hand. Peter's eyes closed and his breathing deepened into sleep almost immediately. She sat very still until she was sure Peter slept soundly, then she gently disengaged her hand and went back to Spock and sat down by his side at the table.

Spock observed her closely, noting the dark shadows under her eyes. "Mother, you must rest also," he told her. "I will keep watch over you and the boy while you sleep. Father would be most displeased with me if I allowed you to become ill."

Amanda smiled at Spock's description of Sarek's reaction. "What time is it Spock?"

Spock consulted his time sense. "It is 0333 hours. Please mother, sleep now, at least for a few hours. We must rest and stay alert for any eventualities that may arise."

"All right, Spock. I'll sleep for a little while." She went to the other room and stripped off her outer wear. She tossed the lilac dress to the corner of the room with distaste. Even if they got out of this, she would never wear it again. Clad only in her chemise, she lay down. She thought of Sarek and how in spite of all his Vulcan discipline, he would be desperately worried. She knew that this would be bad for him and she hoped Dr. McCoy would check his heart. She reached out to him through the marriage bond they had shared for so many years, and projected reassurance. She hoped it would allay his worry and that he would share that reassurance with Captain Kirk. The captain must be frantic about Peter. Still restless, she closed her eyes and began a Vulcan sleep meditation routine. She hoped it would work and sleep would follow.

Spock sat at the table thinking. There was supposed to be a way out of any box or so Jim always said, and he proposed to find a way out of this one. Tomorrow, no, later today, he corrected himself, he would exam every inch of this box. He allowed his thoughts to dwell on his father and his captain. Both would be frantic with worry. Jim openly so, Sarek logically so. Jim would know that he would take care of Peter to the best of his ability and his father would know that too about Amanda. But Spock remembered many occasions when he had to sit and wait while Jim was on some dangerous mission. No amount of logic or mediation had ever been able to calm his anxiety on those occasions, and he knew that it would be the same for Jim and Sarek now.

Suddenly his Vulcan hearing caught the sound of a faint whimper…Peter. Quietly, so as not to waken his mother, he made his way to the child's bed. Peter whimpered again. Spock sat on the side of the bed and took the little boy's hand in his own warm one. Peter stirred restlessly. "Daddy," he murmured, and held out his arms. "Had a bad dream," he mumbled, his eyes still closed. "Daddy," he murmured again. Spock leaned forward and effortlessly picked him up and sat with him on his lap. Peter snuggled, put his arms around Spock's neck, muttered something unintelligible, and breathed deeply, sound asleep again.

Spock sat very still with the unaccustomed warmth of the little boy in his arms. He gently brushed the unruly hair from the child's forehead and put his fingers to Peter's temple. His mind slipped easily into the child's dream state to remove the nightmare, a confused jumble of black hooded figures, flying creatures, and dark shadows. He projected warmth, protection, and reassurance into Peter's mind, and slipped gently out again. Peter would sleep soundly now, yet Spock felt a strange reluctance to lay him down on the bed again. _It was, he thought, a good thing that Leonard McCoy could not see him now._ He sat for a few minutes more with the child in his arms, then sighed and put Peter down.

He stood there in the darkness, a tall, slim figure, looking down at the child, when the sudden silvery whine of a transporter sent him to the other room to investigate. A small bed had materialized. Spock picked it up and set it down against the wall closest to his mother. Then he set his body metabolism for first level sleep; he would rest for now. In the morning he would begin to formulate a plan for escape. He closed his eyes and slept.


	8. Chapter 7

Hostages

Chapter 7

Jim Kirk paced. Uhura sitting glued to the comm station counted in her head. One, two, three, four, turn; one, two, three, four, turn_. I will stay calm, _she told her self._ I will not scream. _She glared at her captain's back. Jim had been pacing relentlessly in front of her for what seemed like hours. It was driving her mad! She opened her mouth to protest, but looking up at his face, she closed it again. He looked terrible; pale, his face drawn, his eyes blood-shot.

McCoy came in and he, too, examined Kirk's face. "Jim, you need to get some rest." McCoy had slept a couple of hours as had Uhura. "Let me give you somethin'. It's 0800; you've been up for twenty-four hours straight."

Nogura had left long ago to his home. Before he left he gave Kirk what he called 'discretionary powers' to do whatever was necessary to get the hostages back. The Admiral had bowed to the logic of the situation; Kirk had the ship, the staff, and the experience to deal with this kind of crisis better than anyone else, including himself.

Jim shook his head impatiently. "Later Bones, after the preliminary reports come in." His eyes felt gritty, but he was not tired.

A signal flashed on Uhura's board. She answered instantly. "Yes, yes, you're sure? Yes, I have the spelling. O.K. Chu, I owe you one."

She turned to the captain. "Sir, that was Science Specialist Chu, the one who understands a little of the archaic Orion dialect. He said that after he and Sarek had transcribed everything they understood of the conversations between the Orions, he went home to get some sleep. He just woke up and remembered that one of them addressed the man with the hoarse voice, as Retz…he thinks the spelling is _R e t z."_

"Good news, Uhura. Let's see what the ship's computer can find on an Orion named Retz. It's somewhere to start at least."

Sarek come in behind them. He, like Jim, had been up all night. "Captain, it is time for my scheduled meeting with the Orion delegation. Admiral Nogura has decided that he also wishes to be present during the meeting. Perhaps one of the three delegates will be able to add to our fund of information about these men. Nogura and I agree that Orion military intelligence or their Security Officers should have dossiers on some of the dissidents." Sarek too, looked tired and drawn, although his Vulcan stamina would drive him on after the rest of them were ready to drop.

"We can only hope," said Jim. "Sarek, we have a bit of good news, we think we have the name of the leader, it's _Retz_. The spelling is _R e t z_. Lieutenant Chu gave us the information a few minutes ago. See if the name is known to any of the delegates. Maybe we'll get lucky. You have your communicator?"

Sarek nodded.

"We have no way of knowing how they will contact you, Sarek. If the call from the Orions comes through your communicator, Lieutenant Uhura has now linked your communicator to her board so she can monitor your call and we can hear it and hopefully trace it. Thanks to the spy at Fleet, I feel sure they have your secure contact information and I think the call will come in that way."

"Captain, this meeting with the Orion Ambassador and delegates may yield nothing." Sarek warned. "However, if they know anything, I believe they will coöperate if for no other reason then to try to sway my vote to their side. Orions are not known for their cooperative natures," Sarek added dryly. "However, they are a pragmatic people." "Also," he continued, "for the moment, all three hostages are safe, which does buy us some time."

Kirk stared at the Vulcan. "How do you know that?"

"You forget Captain, Amanda and I are bonded. The marriage bond is quite strong, and if she or Spock or Peter were in distress or in any physical pain, I would know. And she would be _most_ distressed if either Spock or Peter were injured or separated from her," Sarek explained.

McCoy pounced on Sarek. "Do you mean you can read her mind?"

"No, doctor, there is no 'thought' exchange between us. There is only the sense of union and presence that all Vulcans share when they bond at marriage. Since Amanda is not a telepath, the bond cannot lead me to her nor can she tell me where they are. The bond can only tell me that they are well for the present. It will also tell me when things are _not _well," Sarek added, answering their unspoken question.

Jim sighed. At least that knowledge eased his worry a little. He realized too, that if something had happened to Spock he would know somehow. Duty, danger and friendship had linked their minds on several occasions. The mind meld had saved his life and the lives of his crew, had brought solace and comfort, and had also broken them out of jail a time or two. Because of the meld his friendship and rapport with Spock transcended normal human limits. Across time and space somehow he would know, through the link, if Spock were dead or injured.

"I will leave you now, Captain," said Sarek. "I will be in my office at Council headquarters." The silvery whine of the transporter took him.

Jim's communicator beeped. "Kirk here."

"Sir, Scott here. We're ready to begin sensor scan."

"All right, Scotty, 360 degrees, one degree at a time. And Scotty…"

"Yes, sir?"

"Look for what's _not _there, as well as what _is_ there, understood?"

"Aye, sir! Understood."

"I want a report every two hours, Scotty."

"Yes, sir. Scott out."

"Jim, what do you mean, 'what's not there?'"asked McCoy.

"Bones, the Orions may have a screening device or dampening field of some sort activated. The maximum distance for even the most advanced transporter range is 25,764 kilometers. That means that they're probably being held somewhere within that radius. Scotty will scan every square inch for any sign of a sensor anomaly. We know they haven't left Earth, so this our best bet for now. It's a very slow process, but we may get lucky."

"Jim," McCoy paused, searching for the right words to say it, then went on, there were no right words. "You know there is a chance that we won't find them before the deadline."

"I'll find them." Jim Kirk's voice was fierce. There was no doubt in him. Nothing would stop him. He knew he would find them, because he must.

McCoy shook his head. He recognized that stubbornness in his Captain that would carry him through until he found Peter, Spock and Amanda. It was as if by the very force of his will, by the determination of his very need to do so, the universe would bend to Jim Kirk's will, would obey his commands. That dynamic quality of Jim's mind which Spock had sensed many times in the mind meld would admit no obstacle, no defeat.

"Sir," Uhura's voice was urgent. "It's the Orion calling Sarek."

"Quick Uhura put it on audio. See if you can get a trace on it while he's speaking to Sarek."

The Orion's hoarse harsh voice resounded through the room as Uhura's quick fingers complied. "Am I speaking to Sarek of Vulcan?"

Immediately through Uhura's communication relay, they heard Sarek's voice responding. "This is Sarek speaking." The Ambassador's voice sounded measured and calm.

"Ambassador, your instructions are these: In five days the General Assembly of the United Federation of Planets will meet. The question before them and more importantly, before you, is the admission of Orion to the Council. You will be asked to speak to the question. You will speak of your deep doubts about the wisdom of Orion admission and state all your logical reasons for these doubts. The weight of your logic will be such that the other members of the Council cannot but agree with your reasons. We know that Vulcan, and you, as the Vulcan Ambassador, wield an inordinate amount of power and influence on the Council floor, so when your negative vote is cast, the other delegates will vote as you do." The guttural voice continued. "If your vote is affirmative, then your wife, your son, and the child will die. Their bodies will be deposited at the door of the Vulcan embassy immediately after the vote."

Sarek's voice deeper and calmer than ever, poised a question. "What if I should abstain?"

Listening, Jim broke out in a sweat. He looked at McCoy's set face. They both knew what the answer would be.

"Abstention is not acceptable. The defeat of the proposition must be so overwhelming that Orion will not try for admission again. Do you understand what you must do, Ambassador?"

"Yes, I understand. However, I, too, need something before I cast my vote. I must know that my wife, my son, and the boy are alive and well. I must see and hear them. On this issue I will not negotiate."

There was a second of silence. "We will confer and inform you of our decision." The Orion abruptly broke the communication.

"Uhura?" Jim asked urgently.

"Sir, I was only able to trace it to a general location. They are using some sort of diffusion signal to avoid a trace. I can tell you it came from the greater San Francisco Metroplex general vicinity, but that's all I can tell you. It's an enormous area."

"Sarek, did you hear that?" asked Jim."

"Yes, Captain Kirk. I heard and understand the difficulty." "Captain," he added, "at our meeting, the Orion Ambassador had much to tell us and has indicated a desire to help us. We will come to you in a few minutes. Sarek out."

Kirk opened his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise."

"Yes, Captain, Scott here."

"Scotty, the trace was localized in the greater San Francisco general area. Concentrate the sensor scan in the area. We have no way of knowing if the hostages are in the same place as the Orions, but it's a start. Sarek is bringing the Orion Ambassador here to talk with us. If there are any more developments, I'll let you know immediately."

"Aye, sir. But I dinna' trust those Orion gentlemen at all." Scott's voice reflected his doubts about the proceedings.

"I don't either, Scotty," Jim said. "But it's the only game in town. Kirk out."

He turned to see Dr. McCoy running a medical scanner over him.

"Bones...," he protested.

"Jim, that's a very high stress reading," McCoy said. "You haven't slept, you haven't eaten, you look like hell." He loaded the hypo and pressed it against Jim's arm.

"What the hell's in that, Bones, I have to stay alert for this meeting," Jim snapped irritably.

"Just relax and let your good ole' country doctor fix you up. It's vitamins, a mild stimulant, and a stress neutralizer. You're going to interview an Orion, remember? That won't be easy."

"All right, Bones, but I wish you'd stop hovering over me like a mother hen," Jim stretched his neck and back muscles slowly. He could feel the tension ease as the drugs did their work. He would pay for it later, but for now at least he would be at his best for the Orion meeting. He turned and went into the peace and quiet of the library to wait.

The door chime rang softly. McCoy went to answer it knowing it would be Sarek, Nogura and the Orions_. I have my doubts abut this meeting, _he thought_. Jim's temper is awfully short and I hope this guy doesn't blow Jim's fuse. _

He let Sarek and Nogura in and took a swift look at the Orion as he came in behind Sarek. The Orion Ambassador was short and stocky, with powerful arms and shoulders and a massive neck and head. His face was broad, his nose lean and hawk-like, his jaw pugnacious. But what caught and held McCoy's attention, were his eyes. As the light from the bay window lit the Orion's face, McCoy saw that they were large and thickly lashed, quite beautiful and luminous, set deeply in his face and of a brilliant blue color, icy and cold, but in their depth, like in a star sapphire, a kind of fire smoldered there; eyes that could beguile or seduce with their beauty, yet fierce. It was disconcerting to see those brilliant blue eyes set in the pale green face.

"My name is McCoy. Captain Kirk is waiting for you in the library. Please come this way." He led them past the curious eyes of the command crew, and into the library and closed the door.

Jim stood as Sarek, Nogura and the Orion entered. He glanced at Sarek and Nogura, but their faces told him nothing.

"Kirk, this is Ambassador Dizchard, Exalted of Orion, the head of the delegation. He will speak with us. Dizchard, this is Captain James Kirk. It is his nephew who was kidnapped along with my wife and son." Sarek's face looked more drawn than ever, but his bearing was straight and his voice as measured and calm as always. Dizchard and Kirk looked at each warily for a long minute.

McCoy had always prided himself as being a very good psychologist, reader of character and body language. It was a skill that helped make him into the excellent CMO that he was on the Enterprise. To the watching McCoy, it was obvious that these two men were of like character; born to command others, makers of tough sometimes impossible decisions, each with their own code of honor to live by and uphold. But while Jim's command decisions were always tempered by rigorous soul-searching and compassion, in Dizchard, McCoy could detect only ruthless determination and arrogance. This man would make decisions and cut his losses without a second thought.

"Please sit down, Exalted Dizchard. We have much to discuss," Jim said. "I hope that you and your people will be able to help us.'


	9. Chapter 8

Hostages

Chapter 8

Spock woke from first level sleep to see Peter standing by the bed gazing at him. The child looked solemn, but no longer frightened. Spock's ears caught the sound of water; Amanda was in the shower.

"Good morning, Peter. Are you well?"

"Good morning, Mr. Spock, yes, I'm fine but I'm very hungry. Do you think they'll give us food?" His eyes asked an unspoken question. _Are they going to starve us? _

Spock almost smiled, but caught himself in time. He eyed Peter and answered seriously, "I am very sure we will have food in a few minutes, Peter. The Orion assured me we would be treated well, and I have no reason to doubt his word. In the meantime, if you distract your attention, the feeling of hunger will abate. Perhaps when my mother has finished, you, too, would like to shower."

"I don't think so, Mr. Spock." Peer said, with every young boy's disdain for showers and cleanliness in general.

"I think it would be best," Spock told him firmly, reading the small face without difficulty. "Your Uncle Jim would expect you to adhere to your regular routine as much as possible, especially your hygiene and diet. We will try to do so as much as we can under present circumstances."

As if in answer to Peter's plea, the transporter whined and three trays of food materialized along with some clothing and various other articles in boxes. Spock was impressed once again with the pinpoint accuracy of their transporter technology. He sat Peter down at the table and set his tray of food in front of the child. Everything looked suitable for the little boy to eat, eggs, toast, juice, milk and fruit.

"Peter, I will taste these food items to see if they are safe for you to eat."

'That is not necessary, Mr. Spock. I can assure you that everything is perfectly safe for the boy and for yourselves to eat." The comm unit and camera had come on, and the masked Orion spoke softly. It was not the same man as the hoarse voice one. "You will find clothing for the child and games for him, also a reader and chess set in the boxes. As to exercise, we have not decided." He paused. "You will be interested to know that our demands were communicated to your father this morning. We will keep you informed of further developments." Without another word and with no warning, the Orion closed the transmission.

"A man of few words," murmured Spock.

Spock took a seat by Peter to think about Sarek's and Jim's reaction to the Orion's demand. "Eat, Peter. After your breakfast I have a small task for you to do."

Amanda came in fresh from her shower. She had found more suitable and casual clothing in the box in the bedroom.

"Good morning, Spock and Peter, I see our breakfast has arrived."

"Sit down, mother. We must all eat and keep our strength up. Also, if we set up a routine, the time will seem to pass more quickly, subjectively speaking of course," Spock told her with his usual precision.

Amanda nodded her agreement and sat down by Spock. The food was good and hot and they ate hungrily.

"Mother, we must try to determine where we are and if possible, find a way to get out of here."

Amanda looked pointedly at the camera and comm unit.

Spock following her glance nodded in comprehension. "It doesn't matter, mother. As far as I have been able to determine, we are only observed and over heard when the devices is on. There is no way we can be monitored when they are off. I investigated the comm unit and the camera and they are standard, regulation issued, and not enhanced in any way."

"Well that's a relief! I hated the thought they were watching our every move."

Spock turned to Peter. "Have you finished your breakfast and milk, Peter?"

"Yes sir. It was good," sighed Peter. "I'm full."

"But not for long, I bet," said Amanda softly to Spock.

"Good. Now I have a task for you. We will go over to the far wall to the three small windows. I will get on one of these chairs, and then you will climb on my shoulders and look through each one and tell me exactly what you see. Peter, you must observe very carefully; describe every single detail visible, no matter that it looks unimportant or insignificant."

Spock was 187.96 cm. tall, the chair was 45.72 cm high, and Peter was 139.70 cm. tall. Their combined heights would be more than enough for Peter to look out the window. Spock put the chair under the windows close to the wall.

"Ready?"

"Yes, sir."

Spock climbed on the chair and leaned over and effortlessly picked Peter up and sat him on his shoulders. "Peter, hold on to the wall and very slowly begin to stand on my shoulders, keep holding on to the wall as you stand up. I will hold your legs so you won't fall. Don't be afraid," Spock spoke reassuringly.

Amanda stood by Spock looking up anxiously until Peter said, "I'm not afraid, Mr. Spock." She relaxed and smiled up at the little boy.

"Peter peered through the first window. "It's kind of dirty," he reported.

"Mother, please get a cloth so he can clean it."

Amanda quickly reached up and gave Peter the scarf she had worn at the party. Peter scrubbed at the window and peered through it again.

"Mr. Spock, there's a walk not far from the windows. There's grass all around the walk, and a sign that says, 'Keep off the Grass' and a black railing made of metal and a flower bed with roses. I don't see anything else from this window."

"All right, Peter, I'm going to pull you down so we can move the chair to the next window. Hold on to the wall and sit back down on my shoulders."

"Be careful, Spock," Amanda cautioned as Spock slowly and carefully pulled Peter off his shoulders and set him back down on the floor.

They moved to the next window and Peter was put on Spock's shoulders again. He was enjoying himself now. It was fun to be so high up and he felt important reporting to him.

"Now I see something shiny on a big stone. It's a sign, but I can't read it from here, it's too far away. Mr. Spock, I see birds too, lots of birds."

"What kind of birds?'

"They look like sea gulls, yes, yes, they _are_ seagulls!"

Peter was excited now; he wriggled precariously on Spock's shoulders.

"Peter, be careful," Amanda cried out as she saw him lose his balance, teeter and fall off Spock's shoulders.

Spock's heart jumped in reaction, but he caught the child in mid-air with ease.

Peter looked at Spock wide-eyed. "I fell," he said, surprised.

"So you did, but you are unhurt and we have one more window to check. Up on my shoulders again, Peter. We don't have much time now." Spock told him as he glanced at the comm unit.

"I see water, Mr. Spock. And I see parts of a bridge, a big bridge, but I can't see all of it, it's cut off."

"Good, you can come down now, Peter. You have done very well. From what you described, I think I know where we are." Spock sounded very satisfied.

Amanda helped Peter to scramble down from Spock's shoulders. "Young man, it's time for you to take your shower. There are clothes for you in that box over there. There's soap in the bathroom and it's a real water shower, not a sonic. Off you go, now."

"All right," Peter muttered, as Amanda hustled him off to the bathroom and closed the door after him.

"Now, Spock, what can you tell about our prison." Amanda realized that their predicament would become more serious with each passing day. Her confidence in Sarek and Kirk was very high, but even they could not do the impossible.

Spock kept one eye on the camera and comm unit as he spoke softly and rapidly.

"I believe that we are being held in one of the basement rooms of the main building of Alcatraz Children's Park, mother. This room is probably in the main hall and it's obvious that it has not been used in a long time. The window view indicates that we are probably in the corner of the main building, the one that faces the bay. Since the park has been closed now for over a year for total renovation, the chances that anyone would come here is very small. If there is any type of security, I feel sure it's provided by someone who was bribed or by one or two of the Orions who were hired for just that purpose. I believe there is a lull in the work schedule, since it would be too dangerous to have us here if there were workmen about. It's an eminently logical hiding place," Spock said admiringly.

"Yes,' said Amanda, thoughtfully. " It's very clever. Just like in that story 'The Purloined' Letter' by Edgar Allan Poe. Do you remember it, Spock? I read it to you when you were no older than Peter."

"Yes, as I recall, the story revolved around a letter that was hidden by hiding it in a place that was so obvious that it was overlooked by the Paris police. I see the similarity in our situation."

Spock suddenly held up his hand in a warning. His Vulcan hearing had detected the almost inaudible click of the monitoring devices.

"Mr. Spock, your request for exercise and sunshine for the boy was denied. He must stay inside."

Spock nodded. He had expected that response. He also noted that it was the softer voice speaking again. There was definitely a more cultured and educated speech pattern in his conversation.

"Very well, but I must protest this decision. The boy's health will suffer without fresh air and natural sunlight. He is at the age when he is growing rapidly; humans call this a growth spurt, and human children need certain things to stay healthy during such periods. Exercise and sun light are two of them, also fresh food, fruit, and milk. Perhaps it is different for Orion children, but human children are more delicate and fragile beings than Vulcan or Orion children."

There was the briefest of pauses from the comm unit. The Orion spoke again. "Very well, Mr. Spock, I will see what I can do to convince my colleagues. I will tell them that even if all of you are to be executed, when your bodies are examined, they must show that you were in good physical condition and not mistreated in any way. We want all to know that we kept our word as Orion Warriors about your treatment. The man paused again, and muttered as if against his will, "I'm a warrior, not a jailer," just as the monitor clicked off.

Spock almost smiled. It was an uncanny echo of Leonard McCoy's perennial lament. He also shook his head. What the Orion said was totally illogical and nonsensical. They thought nothing of executing their prisoners if the vote was for admission, yet they wanted their hostages to be in perfect health when they killed them. Fascinating.

"Spock, do you think it's wise to let Peter go outside? Amanda asked worriedly. "These men…"

"I have calculated the risk, mother, and it is minimal. I think this room is shielded with a type of cloaking device or screen. I expect that Mr. Scott will be scanning for our life signs from the ship, and if we are shielded then the screen here must be deactivated to beam Peter in and out. Although there is a tremendous amount of transporter activity within this area, there is a remote chance that Mr. Scott may detect the in and out power fluctuations and he may even be able to scan for Peter when he is outside." Spock went on." While it is almost a certainty that father and Jim will leave no stone unturned in their efforts to find us, we must also do all in our power to help them in their search."

Peter came out of the shower, his face shining, his hair damp, and his expression forbidding.

"I'm clean now," he told Amanda shortly. "I'm not going to do anything to get dirty in here, so I guess I won't have to shower again, right?" He looked hopefully at both of them.

Amanda laughed and put out her hand to brush the unruly lock of hair off his forehead. "Another shower tomorrow, Peter," she told him, "and every day that we're here."

"Shower!" Spock stood up suddenly. "Mother, I must take a shower now. I may be some time, so do not become alarmed." He raised an eyebrow at her in warning.

Amanda nodded her understanding. "All right, dear, take all the time you need. Peter, why don't you and I play a game while Spock showers? It will help to pass the time."


	10. Chapter 9

Hostages

Chapter 9

Jim Kirk looked at the Orion Ambassador with fury and loathing in his eyes. "Do you mean to tell me that you knew this could happen and you didn't think to warn Star Fleet or the Federation Council? What kind of self-serving, unethical bastards are you? You knew innocent lives might be at risk! "

He looked at the Sarek. "I hope you take this into consideration on the Council floor when you vote! There is no excuse for this. None!"

"Jim," McCoy protested. "Calm down, this won't get us anywhere."

Sarek said nothing. He had decided to let the captain handle this interview in his own way. Perhaps the dynamics between these two would be different and they would learn more from the Orion."

"Captain Kirk, if we had warned the Council, the vote would have been postponed yet again. We felt it was worth the slight risk to let the vote go ahead on the appointed day," explained Dizchard in a measured tone. "It seemed reasonable to us to await developments when we acquired the intelligence. We were not sure, you see, that the threat would be carried out. There have been other threats that have come to nothing."

Jim heard the Orion's explanation through the black fury that rose up in him. "Risk! How dare you talk risk to us here! It wasn't you that was at risk. It was innocent people!" In his fury, he lunged at the Orion and threw a solid punch that landed squarely on the Exalted's jaw. He felt the blow all the way to his shoulder; it felt good! It felt damned good!

Dizchard fell heavily, but was up almost instantly with a snarl. He bent his head and rammed Jim in the stomach and they both went down in a heap to the floor. Jim rolled over, fighting for breath and sprang to his feet ignoring McCoy's frantic protests. He crouched down, breathing heavily, ready to defend himself. The Orion sprang for Kirk's neck but came up against a solid Vulcan wall…Sarek.

"Enough, gentlemen." Sarek was apparently unmoved, but an appreciative gleam shone in the dark eyes. Earlier he, too, had felt a most illogical wish to ram his fist down the Ambassador's throat, but of course, he had restrained himself.

He felt compelled to explain Kirk's actions to the Orion in the expectation that the dynamics of the confrontation would loosen the Exalted's tongue.

"You must forgive Captain Kirk, Dizchard. He is a man of strong passions, and the abduction of his nephew and of my son and wife has caused him much distress. Consider, if you will, if it had been you and your family in such a situation, and how you would have reacted to a statement such as you made." His stern gaze rested on the Orion, inviting him to respond truthfully.

Dizchard looked at Sarek and answered. "I would have killed such a one," he growled. He eyed Jim who still looked furious and abruptly his stance relaxed."

"Captain, it may be that in our zeal for acceptance to the Federation Council, we neglected our responsibilities to others." He paused, and then added with evident difficulty. "On Orion, we have not had the opportunities to evolve the higher affects and moral principles. We have developed a warrior mentality and this because of dire necessity. You need to understand that only the strongest and fit survive on our planet." His beautiful eyes looked bleak. "Perhaps it's time we begin to change our thinking and consider another way. We want better for our children. I offer this not as an apology, but as an explanation of our decision."

Jim looked steadily at Dizchard and slowly he too relaxed his stance. It was a relief to Dr. McCoy who was hovering near ready to restrain Jim if it became necessary. He grabbed Jim's hand and checked his fingers. "Lucky for you that you didn't break anything," he muttered. "That was quite a punch you threw." He directed his ire and his scanner at Jim's hand and shoulder. "Fool stunt."

"Don't mother hen me, Bones." Jim shook him off impatiently.

"It's my job, Captain, in case you've forgotten," replied McCoy.

"Gentlemen, let us be seated and proceed. I assume hostilities have ceased?" Sarek raised an eyebrow in question at the two men. "Time grows short," he reminded them.

Jim nodded, as did Dizchard and they sat down. Jim's gaze rested on the Orion. He was still seething, but his voice was calm as he asked, "Dizchard, what information do you have on this man called Retz, who appears to be the leader of the group. There were five other men, all masked and indistinguishable, except for one who limped badly and whose right arm appeared injured. Do you have Intel on them?"

Dizchard nodded. "Yes, Captain Kirk. I will tell you what we know. Retz _is_ the leader. He is young, highly intelligent, and commands a small group of anti-Federation dissidents. He has the reputation of a fierce warrior. To understand his fanaticism, you should know that he is the sole survivor of a warrior clan family that perished in a battle with a Federation ship. This happened when Retz was fourteen years old, and although he was very young, as is our custom, he swore vengeance upon the Federation in the name of his father and brothers. He tried, through political means, to sway our people to vote against the referendum for Council Admission. He did not succeed." Dizchard looked at Kirk with no expression on his face. "Before we came to Earth, he sent a message to the delegation that he would force the Council's decision by putting pressure on influential members. He did not specify how."

Dizchard turned to Sarek. "He also told us that nothing would stop him. We took what measures we could to stop him, but it's clear that we did not succeed." He paused. "I can tell you the names of the five other men,"he added. "I can also tell you about their backgrounds and their warrior status on Orion." He started to say something else, and then stopped.

Jim tensed. His instinct, his sixth sense told him that Dizchard was holding something back, some important information. He glanced at Sarek who gave him an infinitesimal nod, confirming Jim's assessment.

"Perhaps Exalted, you would be good enough to feed all your information into the ship's computer and then return here to us for some further conversation," Sarek suggested.

"I will do anything to help," Dizchard responded, not looking at Jim.

"I'll show him where, Jim," McCoy volunteered and steered the Ambassador out the door to the living room and to Uhura at the comm station.

Jim and Sarek looked at each other in silence for a long minute.

"He's not telling us something," Jim said. "And I don't much like it, and further more I don't trust him."

"Perhaps, Captain Kirk, when he returns we can continue the conversation and can elicit more information from him,"

For a minute Sarek's voice sounded so much like Spock's that Jim closed his eyes in pain. He rose abruptly and went to the door. "Mr. Sulu," he called.

"Yes, sir," Sulu responded immediately.

"Come in, Mr. Sulu." Jim said. "Sulu, do you think the Orion saw you and Chekov when he came in?"

"I don't think so, sir. We were not really in his line of sight, and he wasn't much interested in anything but talking to you anyway," he added.

"Good. Sulu, I want you and Chekov and one other reliable person to keep an eye on the Ambassador. You are to follow him everywhere he goes. Report to Uhura hourly. I want to know everywhere he goes, every single thing he does, including how may times he sneezes. Rotate your watches so he doesn't get suspicious if he accidentally spots one of you. Be sure you are in civilian clothes, we don't want anyone to ask any questions by flashing Star Fleet uniforms around."

"Aye, sir. Don't worry; we won't let him out of our sight."

"Mr. Sulu…" Jim hesitated. "I want to hear any conversation the Exalted engages in. I don't want to know how you do it; just do it. It's highly unethical not to mention illegal to eavesdrop on private conversations, but what I don't know about, I can't reprimand you for."

"Yes, sir. I didn't hear a thing." Sulu acknowledged absently, his mind already on the task ahead and how it could best be accomplished. He would recruit Marie Bridges. She was not only beautiful, she was brainy too. Her engineering ability was just what he needed while Scotty was busy with the scan. _It was a good thing_, Sulu thought, _that the Orion left his cloak in the living room. They would plant the listening device on his cloak, and pray to all the weather gods that the San Francisco weather stayed cool and foggy. _

"Dismissed, Mr. Sulu." The captains' voice brought him out of his trance with a start.

"Yes, sir." He saluted hastily and left to find Chekov and Marie.

Sarek and Jim sat silently each preoccupied with their own thoughts until McCoy brought Dizchard back into the library.

"Computer report will be ready shortly," the doctor reported. "One interestin' thing showed up already, Jim. The Orion who limped, name's Tarz, by the way, did receive treatment in a Federation medical facility and then he was released. He remained on Earth though, for six months, and lived for a time with a girl who worked at the hospital." He consulted his pad, "Her name is Cedar Adams."

"Track her down, Bones, see if Uhura can get her on the comm and talk with her."

"Sure thing, Jim. I'll get right on it."

"Sit down, Dizchard. Perhaps we can continue our conversation." Jim smiled at the Orion, a tight, tired expression. The hypo Bones had given him was wearing off and his head felt as if it were a drum stretched tight and someone was pounding on it. He nerves were also at the breaking point, and the Orion Ambassador didn't look as if he were going to help matters any.

"Is there anything else you would like to add to what you've told us?" Jim asked him shortly.

Again, that tiny pause that sent a warning tingle up and down Jim's spine.

"No. I'm sure that I have told you everything relevant. Perhaps I will remember something more at a later time. If so, I will tell you immediately."

Clearly the conversation was over as far as the Orion was concerned. Dizchard stood, bowed formally to Sarek and perfunctorily to Jim. "If you will excuse me, I must return to my colleagues. They will be anxious to know what has transpired here."

Jim stood, but Sarek waved him down. "I will see the Exalted out, Captain." Deliberately, he took Dizchard's arm and let him out the door.

Jim was very thoughtful as he waited for Sarek to come back. _What is it that the man's not telling us? I feel it in my guts that it's important. I just hope that Sulu and Chekov are on the ball. _He stretched his neck and back. God, he was so tired.

Sarek came in noiselessly. Jim had almost drifted off to sleep, but he bolted upright. "Well?" he demanded harshly. "What did you find out?"

"Captain, I was reluctant to invade his privacy, but sometimes necessities must over-come personal qualms or even scruples." Sarek's voice was dry. "When I touched his arm, I could sense there was great conflict in him. His thoughts were chaotic and not clear and there is much doubt in him. But you must understand, Kirk, that as a touch telepath, I must be in physical contact in the proper manner for me to enter his mind. A casual touch was not enough for me to read what it is he is holding back from us."

McCoy walked in just then, and taking a close look at Jim's exhausted face and slumped body, he brought out his hypo. Ignoring the look of protest that came over Kirk's face, he shook his head at his friend. "No arguments, Jim. You're going to get at least four hours sleep."

The hypo hissed against his arm and Jim felt the sedative begin to take effect almost immediately.

"O.k. Bones, but four hours, no more. Sarek will you wake me please?" His voice was already drowsy.

Sarek nodded. "Sleep now, Captain. I will awaken you after four hours."

Sarek watched the human sleep and thought; _he has the will and tenacity of a Vulcan. It will serve us well. _


	11. Chapter 10

Hostages

Chapter 10

Spock looked at the shower head. It was very old-fashioned, antique really, and made from some obsolete plastic material yellow with age, and with a metal housing. He carefully unscrewed the housing, removed the shower head and peered into the hole. He could see nothing through the dark space. He inserted his index finger as far as it could go and realized he would either have to have longer fingers or a rod of some kind to determine how far the metal tubing went. He felt a sudden draught of cool air around his ankles and looked down. He saw a large, old-fashioned drain with a slightly rusted metal cover. Surrounding the drain was a tile floor, old, with the tile squares chipped in many places. He bent and put his hand over the drain and again felt cool air. With delicate precision he carefully worked the cover loose and pulled it off and rested his palm over the hole. He could hear a faint whistle as the air rushed through. The shower water must drain directly into the bay, he thought with disapproval. It would not be filtered and would most certainly pollute the Bay. He felt faintly horrified that the drain had been left like this for so many years. He reasoned that the room must be very old indeed and probably had not been used for showering in a great many years. However, ecology not with standing, perhaps this was a fortuitous thing. This might be a way to get a signal out if Peter was allowed to go outside and the shields were lowered. He would have to consider the feasibility of such a plan carefully, find a way to use the comm unit as a beacon. He screwed the drain cover and the shower head back on and went back to Amanda and Peter.

They were deep in a game of gin rummy and Peter was telling Amanda about his grandmother, Winona, and the farm. "My Grandma is a Xenobiologist, but she has her office at the farm in Iowa because she likes it there. I like the farm a lot, my daddy and my Uncle Jim grew up there. I sleep in my daddy's old room in the same bed he used. All his things from when he was a boy are still there. Uncle Jim's too. Grandma and I have a horse and a dog and a mother cat with 3 kittens. She came to visit and stayed to have her kittens. Grandma has a vegetable garden that we take care of together, we decided what each of us wanted to plant 'cause we like different kinds of vegetables. My school is 6 kilometers away from the farm and the school shuttle picks me up and brings me home. At first I was scared to go to a new school, because my mom always taught me at home in Deneva, but I like it now." There was no sadness there as he spoke about his mother, Peter's eyes shone with contentment. "My Grandma talked to the school and my teacher let me come to San Francisco to stay with Uncle Jim if I promised to do all my assignments. But now," he added with a worried frown, "I'm going to fall behind."

"Peter," Amanda said, "I am a teacher. I can help you with your school work if you'd like me to. You just tell me what subjects you were studying and I'll make up some lessons for you. We can work in the mornings and for a little while in the afternoon. Would you like to do that?"

Peter nodded his head eagerly. He didn't want to get behind in his school work. Third grade was a lot harder than second grade, and he planned to enter Starfleet Academy as a cadet when he was fourteen, just like his Uncle Jim. He knew how important his school work and good grades were to get into Starfleet. "I'd like to", Lady Amanda. "I can tell you what all my assignments are."

"Peter," Spock said, "we must also continue with your instruction in chess. There is a chess set in the box over there. Why don't you set it up and see if you remember the way the pieces are placed on the board and you can practice the opening moves that I showed you."

Peter obeyed quickly. He was looking forward to playing chess with his Uncle Jim and he had to learn everything about chess fast or he would never beat him.

Spock, keeping a wary eye on the comm unit, told his mother about the shower drain. "I will go in there periodically, mother. If the Orions ask for me, tell them I am taking the twice daily shower that is customary in our culture. For now though, it's almost time for lunch and I am sure that our food will be appearing shortly. Also, if I am not mistaken, the response to my request for Peter's exercise," Spock added.

As if on cue, he heard the faint click of the comm unit. The Orion spoke. It was the soft cultured voice again. "Mr. Spock?"

"Yes?"

"The food will be appearing shortly. I wish to tell you that we have conferred about your request for outdoor exercise for the boy. He will be permitted outdoors for half an hour every afternoon. No more, no less. It's the best I could do. He will be allowed to run and play in an enclosed and sheltered part of this compound. Someone will be with him, possibly my self, at all times. You may rest assured that he will be taken care of and not harmed in any way."

Spock nodded to the screen. "That will be satisfactory. The exercise will be most beneficial for the child. Perhaps some running games or calisthenics could be arranged," he suggested pleasantly.

The Orion ignored the comment and went on as if Spock had not spoken. "Mr. Spock, the boy must understand that he must do exactly as he is told, and stay only in the designated area where he is taken. I will not be responsible if he disobeys. The consequences could be severe."

Amanda interrupted. "I will make sure that he understands and obeys your instructions exactly, or we will not allow him to go out."

The Orion looked at her for a minute, seemed satisfied with what he saw in her face, nodded and closed the transmission.

Spock turned to Peter who was thoroughly involved in the chess board. "Peter, come here."

The child looked up and came to Spock's side.

"Peter," Spock hesitated, looking down at the small face, then put his arm around the child as he had seen Jim do; was it only yesterday? He could feel the trust and affection the boy had for him as they touched, and he felt the full weight of his responsibility for the little boy.

"Peter, this afternoon you will be beamed outside for thirty minutes. There will be an Orion guard with you at all times. You must stay exactly where he tells you and you must obey his instructions implicitly." Spock looked sternly into the hazel eyes so much like Jim's. "It would be very dangerous and foolish to do otherwise. Do you understand?"

Peter nodded. "I understand, Mr. Spock, he said. Then he grinned, a small replica of the rakish grin Jim Kirk always gave when he was in a tight spot. "You want me to use my eyes and ears and report everything I see and hear, right? Check everything out there and memorize the layout."

Spock was so surprised at the quickness of Peter's understanding of Spock's wishes that he almost hugged the little boy. Peter had understood immediately without any explanation everything that he had to do.

Amanda looked at them and had a sudden flash back to Spock at that age. When had Spock ever smiled like that, spontaneously, like a sudden flash of sunlight? When had he ever stood relaxed and content in the circle of Sarek's or her arm? Try as she might, she couldn't recall a single instance. She could only remember the always solemn little face, the somber black eyes, and the mouth always tight and stiff when something went wrong at school or he was reprimanded at home. Her heart hurt for that long ago child of hers. Things had not gotten better for Spock as he grew older; they had only gotten worse until he had finally left home for Starfleet. She wished she could go back in time somehow and do things differently for that small Spock. Now she didn't hesitate; she reached over to Peter and gave him a quick hug. "You're so smart, Peter! Your Uncle Jim will be so proud of you," she told him softly.

Peter blushed, he was embarrassed, but he felt good too. He was determined that he would take note of every single thing he saw outside and report it to Mr. Spock.

The transporter materialized their lunch and Spock picked up the trays and set them on the table. _He would not eat_, he thought. He would go in the shower and work there for a short time while Peter and his mother ate. An idea was beginning to take form in his mind, but it would need to be implemented very carefully and very close to the voting deadline to avoid alerting the Orions. The timing was absolutely crucial; there could be no margin for error.

In the shower he took off his IDIC pin. It would serve as a pick…it was made of an almost indestructible alloy, and it would be much easier on this fingers. As he worked, Spock thought of his captain. He knew with certainty that by now Jim would have begun implementing a plan, and if Spock knew his captain, and he did, it would be unorthodox and probably dangerous. He hoped that Sarek would provide that balance of judgment and logic which often merged Kirk's and Spock's tactical minds. Jim was prone to tread where even Organians would not dare, and the Vulcan had always gone with him. Would Sarek do the same? Spock shook his head to clear his mind of the rising anxiety which even Vulcan logic could not discipline_. I have,_ Spock thought bitterly, _no other choice but to trust Sarek to set aside his Vulcan logic when necessary and follow Jim's lead. Can he do it? Or more to the point, will he do it? _Spock was not sure that Sarek could or would subjugate that great Vulcan mind and will to the orders of a human, even if the human was Jim Kirk, the man who had saved his reputation and career.

Spock reflected grimly on the characters of the two men that he respected and admired above all others. He remembered an old Earth adage he had once heard, something about an irresistible object meeting and immovable force. He feared it was a remarkably apt description of Sarek's and James Kirk's characters. Who would yield to the other if it became necessary? There was no chain of command to cushion and ease what transpired between these two men. Sarek could be as unyielding as a Vulcan mountain, and Jim's will of iron was renowned across the galaxy. For once in his life, Spock could not calculate the odds.


	12. Chapter 11

Hostages

Chapter 11

Pavel Chekov had been following the Exalted Dizchard closely, staying well back from the Ambassador to avoid being seen. He looked at his chronometer; it was time to check in. He pulled out his communicator and flipped the cover up. "Uhura, this is Chekov, do you read?" he whispered loudly.

"Yes, Chekov. I can hear you loud and clear. Report."

"The Ambassador is now in the Golden Gate Bay Hotel lobby. He appears to be waiting for someone. Tell Sulu and Bridges that the transmitter is vorking very well. As soon as he talks to someone I'll report back. Chekov out."

Chekov peered out from behind his hiding place, a lush, exotic Venusian palm, and saw two men approach Dizchard. He heard the babble of hotel lobby noises through the transmitter, but then he heard the Ambassador speaking to the two men."

"Captain Kirk and Ambassador Sarek are extremely disturbed and angry about the kidnapping. It's my duty to report to you that they hold us responsible for doing nothing to prevent it. Captain Kirk, particularly, feels very strongly about our self-serving irresponsibility. It is my hope that his feelings will not influence Ambassador Sarek."

Chekov saw Dizchard rub his jaw and then winced at the loud protests from the other delegates. Dizchard held up his hand for silence. "He feels that such behavior on our part was not only self-serving and irresponsible, but selfish in the extreme. That we put innocent people's life at risk without compunction." Dizchard's voice lowered, "I believe he feels we are not good candidates for admission because we didn't warn Star Fleet about the dissidents."

Chekov recoiled and pulled the transmitter out of his sensitive ear. The delegates were all shouting at the same time and he was having a hard time sorting the responses. The universal translator could not render Orion epithets quickly enough and there were blanks in the transmission.

Dizchard's voice boomed above all the rest. "Silence! We are in a public place," he said sternly. "Let us go to our rooms and discuss this more privately."

The group moved off to the lift and Chekov followed quickly. He looked at the digital display as the lift went up; floor nine. He caught the next lift and went up to the ninth floor and walked slowly down the corridor until he heard the transmitted voices clearly. His tricorder showed Orion life forms in room 917. Chekov leaned casually against the wall and listened to the voices. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to explain his presence to anyone. Chekov was not certain what he would say….perhaps he was waiting for his girlfriend. Yes, that was it; a beautiful girlfriend. He began to invent his imaginary girlfriend with enthusiasm; black hair, brown eyes, big…, he straightened, suddenly alert and listened.

"Captain Kirk appears to have considerable influence on the Ambassador," Dizchard was saying. "If he feels so strongly about our lack of responsibility, perhaps our chances for admission have diminished."

"Then we must tell them about…."

"No! Not yet!" Dizchard's voice boomed. "We still have time to change our minds. For now, we will continue with our plan as it is. It is too dangerous to tamper with it now."

Chekov cursed long and fluently in Russian. _The Keptin will be most unhappy," _he thought. "_These men talk a lot but do not say vat ve need to hear." _He sighed deeply and prepared himself for a long wait. Sulu would relieve him in one hour, forty minutes. He sighed again, and moved the receiver to his other ear.

At the apartment, Lieutenant Sulu and Ensign Bridges were in deep conversation with Uhura. With the help of the _Enterprise _computer and Federation records, Uhura had managed to track down the current address of Cedar Adams and was trying to find her. The apartment address was in the Los Angeles Basin area, but so far there had been no answer to her calls.

"Marie, what if you go talk with her? She's probably still at work. The personal touch is always better in the long run," Uhura said thoughtfully. "We can beam you aboard to the _Enterprise _then Scotty will get the coördinates and beam you directly to her apartment. Face to face you could probably get more information about this man Tarz then I could from here. Marie, ask her where he lives now, if he's moved out, where he worked, his leisure activities, where they went on dates, favorite restaurants, shows, concerts, anything. If you can get her to come back with you, it would be even better, especially if we have to negotiate with these people."

McCoy, coming in, nodded in agreement. "Good idea, Uhura. All hostage case studies from the 20th century forward, show that captives and their kidnapper seem to develop a relationship of sorts. Introducing a personal note has been known to help in conducting negotiations for the release of hostages. Of course, I had to go back a ways to come up with these findings, back to the 20th and 21st century archives. We haven't had many kidnappings or terrorism in the last hundred years, not on Earth, at any rate. But I'm sure the findings will still hold true," McCoy reflected somewhat glumly. "People don't change all that much, I'm afraid."

Uhura's board beeped and she went to answer it. "Yes, sir. No, sir. I'm very sorry, but he's asleep. I'll have Dr. McCoy speak with you if you'd like." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir, I'll have Captain Kirk call you as soon as he wakes up."

She turned to the three pair of watching eyes, and grinned. "Admiral Nogura wants to speak to Captain Kirk and get a progress report on the situation. I didn't think we should wake him up just for that." She looked inquiringly at the doctor. "And I don't think the Admiral is too happy with me, right now," she added mischievously.

"Too damn bad," McCoy grunted. "You did the right thing, Uhura. I said a four-hour nap, and that's what he gets. Sometimes people forget Jim is human too," He grumbled. "He forgets it too; worst patient in Star Fleet and probably all the Federation." He smiled, "However, I did get him to sleep and I also got Sarek to lie down and get some rest. I told him that Vulcans are not indestructible and reminded him of his heart surgery, and he bowed to the logic of what I was sayin'." McCoy grinned proudly. "He sure is more reasonable than Spock, I'll say that for him. At least he's not trying to out Vulcan the Vulcans." "Dammit,"he exclaimed suddenly. "I'd give anything to have that pointy eared Vulcan hobgoblin here now arguing with me."

"So would we all, Doctor McCoy," Sulu said somberly. He looked at the lovely face of Marie Bridges. "You better get started, Marie."

"I'm ready."

"Uhura, let's get it set up with Scotty. The quicker she goes, the quicker we'll get the information."

"Marie, report back as soon as you can and bring Cedar Adams back with you if it's at all possible. Good luck; we're counting on you." Uhura gave her a quick hug.

Marie looked at the faces of her new friends. She would do all she could for Captain Kirk. These people were already dear to her. She nodded to Uhura.

Uhura talked quietly to Scotty, and they watched as Marie disappeared. The silence after she left, was deafening.

"Well, I'd better go relieve Pavel at the hotel. Maybe our luck will turn and we'll get a break. See you later," Sulu said.

He went off to catch a hover cab. Transporting in and out of places attracted too much attention especially in hotel lobbies.

At the hotel, Sulu took the lift to the ninth floor and looked for Pavel and room 917. Chekov's last report had been uneventful and he had sounded bored. Sulu sauntered slowly through the corridor and spotted Chekov leaning casually against the wall. Sulu saw that his eyes looked glazed.

"How's it going, Pavel?" he whispered softly.

"Nothing yet, Sulu. Diplomats talk and argue a lot, but they nothing at all. The Ambassador wants to speak to the Keptain again. They are afraid Keptin Kirk will influence Sarek's voice. They don't know Vulcans well do they," Chekov snorted derisively, "if they think that!"

"Why don't you got get something to eat," Sulu suggested. "I'll take over for a couple of hours."

Chekov suddenly came to attention and raised his hand for quiet. "They are arguing," he whispered. "Wait. Dizchard is going to leave. I will eat later, Sulu, we have to follow the Ambassador where ever he goes. Quick, he's coming out, we must hide."

They both scurried around the corridor. Just in time too, for the door opened and Dizchard came out, his long strides carrying him purposefully to the lift. He stepped in and they watched as it descended to the first floor lobby.

"Pavel, quick, let's go before we lose him." Sulu punched frantically at the buttons to summon another lift. It seemed to take forever to arrive and then Chekov cocked his head to listen to the transmitter.

"He's still in the lobby, Sulu. He's calling for an air cab."

They threw themselves headlong into the lift as it arrived and it finally deposited them on the ground floor. They bolted out into the lobby to see Dizchard waiting at the entrance of the hotel for a cab.

"Damn, damn, damn, Captain Kirk will eat us alive if we lose him, Pavel!" Sulu stopped so suddenly that Chekov slammed into him. "We'll have to take the next air cab. Don't let him see us, Pavel. I wonder where he's going? Hell, there he goes now! He's getting into the cab, quick flag the next one!" Sulu waved frantically at the cabs.

Chekov leaped in front of an air cab, and if it had not been for the lightning reflexes of the driver, Captain Kirk would have been minus one Ensign Navigator.

The air cab driver, pale as death at Chekov's narrow escape, cursed at them in an unknown language, but at Sulu's frantic, "follow that cab," his eyes took on a feral glee. The driver was a native from a planet where hunting was not just a way of life, but a religion as well. On Earth, he had discovered that there was not much used for The Chase and Hunt skills of his race, and he had also realized that driving an air cab, while financially lucrative, was also excruciatingly boring. Every night he sat in front of his god-image and begged and pleaded for a chance to hunt. Of what use was it, he asked his gods, to have money when life had no excitement, no pleasures, and no calls to the Hunt. Now, the hunting gods had apparently answered his pleas, for here was an unsought opportunity to display his prowess. The driver looked inward, thanked his gods fervently, and implemented his Hunt and Chase mode.

Chekov and Sulu settled backing the cab. "Don't let him see us," Sulu cautioned the driver. The driver clicked his tongue twice and barely glanced at his passengers. "I will be an invisible wind at his back, his scent will not escape me, nor his tracks be lost to me."

Sulu and Chekov looked at each other. "Vat does he mean, Sulu?" whispered Chekov, alarmed.

"Don't know, Pavel," gasped Sulu as the driver suddenly accelerated and threw them both back against the seat. They hung on desperately as their speed increased and Chekov, looking out at the blur of buildings and pedestrians below them, began muttering prayers in Russian.

Marie Bridges materialized in front of the door of Cedar Adam's apartment. She looked around, but thankfully no one had seen her. It was a quiet complex, small too, probably no more than thirty apartments, modest looking and probably fifty or sixty years old. No one appeared in the hallway as she waited. _Probably still at work,_ she thought. She was a little apprehensive about this interview, but she was determined to do her best to get as much information from Cedar Adams as she could for Captain Kirk.

Although she had only known the _Enterprise _crew for only a short time, in a vicarious way, she already shared with them their fierce devotion for their captain. There was just something about that man that inspired fierce loyalty in his crew. She, too, wanted to do all in her power to get those innocent people back with their families. Though she didn't know any of the hostages, she felt a sense of kinship and determination with the crew that they would find a way to rescue them.

She heard footsteps on the stoop and the outside door opened. A young woman came into the hallway. Marie saw that she was small and very slender, with wispy golden hair that hung loose around a fine boned face. Her lips and cheeks were innocent of cosmetics. Her skin had a pale translucent quality to it like a pearl, and her nose tilted up as did her eyebrows, which gave her a slightly fey appearance. She looked at Marie with huge smoke grey eyes that held a question in them.

"May I help you? Would you be looking for someone?" Her voice was soft and lilting, as if she were going to sing at any moment. It was the lilt of Ireland or Wales that was in her speech, inherited from an ancestor and probably not too far back.

"Yes, I'm looking for Cedar Adams." Marie smiled her sweetest smile at her.

"I'm Cedar Adams. What would you be wanting with me?" She looked at Marie puzzled.

"I'm here to speak with you about a friend of yours, an Orion named Tarz. My name is Ensign Marie Bridges, Star Fleet. May we talk privately?"

Cedar looked neither surprised nor alarmed at this information. Her large eyes sought Marie's and she smiled. "Come in, I'll be making us some tea. We can talk while we drink it."

Marie nodded relieved. Half the battle was over. Contact and conversation with the girl. She was sure that a little time and further conversation would do the rest. She followed Cedar Adams into her apartment.


	13. Chapter 12

Hostages

Chapter 12

Jim was trying to get to Spock and Peter; there was an earth quake and the ground was opening beneath his feet. Buildings were falling and they were in terrible danger. The trembling was getting worse and he couldn't find them. He gritted his teeth in frustration and rage. He felt his whole body shuddering as he woke suddenly from deep sleep to see Sarek shaking him. He bolted upright. "What is it? What happened?" he asked alarmed.

"It has been four hours, Captain. You asked me to wake you," Sarek spoke softly.

"Oh yes, thank you, Sarek." Jim ran a hand down his face. "I was dreaming of Spock and Peter. I couldn't find them," he told Sarek helplessly, still a little dazed from the nightmare. There was fear in his eyes as he looked at the Vulcan.

"We will find them, Captain." Sarek spoke with absolute certainty.

Jim looked at the calm austere face and nodded, oddly comforted by the bedrock strength and sureness behind the words. He still felt a little groggy from the drug McCoy had given him, and stood up a little unsteadily. He looked down at himself with distaste He was still in his party clothes although the rest of his crew had changed long go into their uniforms.

"I need a quick shower and a change of clothes; I'll be right with you." He noticed that Sarek had already changed.

"Captain, Ensign Bridges has returned with Cedar Adams. She has much to tell us, but it is nothing that cannot wait for ten minutes."

Jim hurried off to the bathroom. He felt rested after his nap and he hoped desperately that Ensign Bridges had provided them with the break they needed. Cedar Adams might have some answers. _Two days,_ he thought, _and four to go. Something has to break soon, or I will. I wonder if Chekov and Sulu have come up with anything. This girl, what kind of person is she? Will she be able to tell us something, anything to help us? _

He stepped out of the shower and slipped on his tenne tunic, black pants and boots. _Command gold, I can never escape it, _he thought bitterly. _Even now, especially now, I must be Captain Kirk. _

Quickly, he went into the living room to find Sarek, McCoy, Uhura, and Ensign Bridges waiting with a young woman.

Uhura stood as he entered. "Sir, this is Cedar Adams."

Jim held out his hand, "I'm James Kirk, please sit down, Miss Adams. It's very kind of you to come to us. I hope you can help us. I'm sure you've been briefed on the situation," he looked inquiringly at her.

"Yes, Captain. Marie has told me about the kidnapping. I'm so sorry." She looked with compassion at Jim. "Captain Kirk, it's impossible for me to believe that Tarz has anything to do with this. In fact, as I told Marie, it's ridiculous to suppose he could ever do such a horrible thing. He's not a terrorist, nor a fanatic. I know him very well. We lived together for eight months and he's an educated, caring, and gentle person. He had no choice about entering Orion military service; it's compulsory on his planet, but when he was injured he welcomed the opportunity to leave the Warrior Army and get on with his studies. Officially, he's still in the army, but he's on restricted duty because of his injury which was severe." She spoke calmly and with obvious sincerity.

"Perhaps he was recruited by this group and succumbed to their fanaticism, Miss Adams," Sarek suggested.

Cedar shook her head vehemently. "No sir, he was going home for a brief time to complete his tour of duty, and visit with his parents, but he was coming back. He wants to finish his studies in agriculture research. His planet desperately needs that kind of research." "Also," she added, "Tarz believes deeply in the philosophy of the Federation. He often voiced the opinion that Orion would not survive unless it joined with the Federation."

Cedar looked at the group. "Something in all this is not right, Captain. Believe me, Tarz is not a terrorist or a kidnapper," she told him.

Jim studied the girl. It was obvious that her belief in the Orion was deep and unshaken by what she was told. But trust had been betrayed before and love could impair judgment. He continued his probing, looking for a crack in her certainty.

"Where did Tarz like to go when he was here? While he was recuperating from his injuries, what kind of things did he enjoy doing? Did the two of you ever stay here in San Francisco?" asked Jim.

"At the time, I lived here in San Francisco and we spent a lot of time walking. Tarz liked to walk; it was good exercise for his leg and arm…" she paused. "The doctors wanted to regenerate his leg," she added softly. "Tarz wouldn't let them, so he exercised a lot of the time. Also, his planet is a warm and arid place, not green at all, and he enjoyed the weather here."

Her grey eyes were pensive as her gaze rested on Jim. "I remember that we often went to the parks. Tarz loved all the parks, Golden Gate Park, Alcatraz Children's Park, The Zoo, we went to all of them several times; we would take a picnic lunch and spend our afternoons and evenings there if it wasn't too cold. Tarz also went to the Academy Library pretty often; he was doing research there. We would seldom go outside the city; we both liked it here so much."

She sat poised and sure of herself. Confident that she would convince them about her friend.

Jim felt frustration rising in him again. _My God,_ he thought, _is there nothing to gain from talking with this girl?_ "Think, Cedar," he told her brusquely. "Is there anything else you can remember? It's very important that you tell us every thing. Do you remember if Tarz ever mentioned a man called Retz?"

For the first time, Cedar Adams lost her composure. He face paled and she turned to Marie, her grey eyes accusing. "You never said Retz was involved." Her voice shook. "He's a terrible, ruthless man, Captain. Tarz hated him. He told me that Retz would destroy Orion with his fanaticism and hatred of the Federation unless he was stopped somehow. If he's the one who planned all this, then I'm sorrier then I can say for all of you and your hostage family. They're in terrible danger." Her eyes filled with sudden tears. "Tarz couldn't be involved with that man, it's impossible. Retz, he's… he's a beast!" Tears rolled down her face unheeded.

McCoy, who could never stand to see anyone cry, stood by and patted her shoulder consolingly. Sorry as he was for her though, he could offer her no real comfort. Tarz was involved with Retz, and there was no doubt about that.

Cedar buried her face in her hands. Everyone looked at each other helpless, until, moved by her obvious distress, the always compassionate Uhura went to sit by her and put her strong arms around the girl.

The Captain looked at her compassionately, "I'm very sorry, Cedar, but there is no doubt about the involvement between Retz and Tarz. The question, we have to ask though, is why?" He paced restlessly and then looked at Sarek.

Sarek nodded in understanding. "This is not as it should be, Captain. We have to ask ourselves, why would a man change his philosophy, his beliefs, and his behavior in so radical and so sudden a manner?"

"Is it possible he's being coerced in someway?' asked Jim. "Or threatened somehow? Maybe he's acting under duress." He was thinking furiously; there was something here that they were all missing, but somehow it eluded his grasp.

"You mean," drawled McCoy," it could be somethin' like what my grand daddy used to say? That once you've got them by their balls their hearts and minds will follow?"

They all looked at him blankly. "For Pete's sake! Don't you people speak Georgian? What I mean is do they have him cooperatin' against his will because they have somethin' on him." He looked at the ceiling and rolled his eyes in despair at their obtuseness.

"I don't think so, Bones," Jim eyed him thoughtfully. "It doesn't seem right. His were not the action of a man who is acting under duress, or coercion. He seemed very willing to do as ordered."

"Well," interrupted Cedar furious at all of them, her grey eyes stormy and still damp with tears. "I don't care what you say, any of you. Tarz would never coöperate with a man like Retz. He just wouldn't; I know him and you don't, and I know that there is no way he would do something like that."

Uhura's board beeped loudly in the silence that followed Cedar's declaration and she rose from the girl's side and went to her station.

"Yes, yes, calm down, Chekov. You're where? Yes, I'll tell the Captain right away. Report back as soon as you can."

She turned to the Captain, her beautiful Bantu face bewildered. "Sir, that was Chekov. He and Sulu are in an air cab being driven around by a mad man following the Orion Ambassador all over town. He says he is sure Dizchard has not spotted them, but is simply trying to make sure no one is following him. Sulu thinks he is probably going to meet someone. They will call back in an hour." She paused, looked uncertainly at Jim and cleared her throat. "He was praying in Russian, sir."

For the first time since the kidnapping, Jim's face lightened and he grinned. "That must be some driver," he said admiringly, "if he can scare our stalwart navigator." The brief smile faded. "I wonder who the Exalted is meeting and why he's taking such pains to avoid being followed?"

Uhura's board beeped again. She answered quietly. "Yes, Lieutenant Uhura here. Yes, he's right here. Please hold on while I put him on." She turned to Sarek. "It's Retz, Ambassador; he wants to speak with you. I wonder how he managed to get us instead of you, Ambassador?"

"I gave the communication code to him, Lieutenant. I felt it necessary to ensure that he could communicate with the Captain as well as myself at any time."

"Put it on audio, Uhura. Everyone be very quiet." He nodded to Uhura and then Sarek, who walked over to Uhura's station.

"This is Ambassador Sarek."

"We have considered your request, Ambassador, and it will be honored. Two hours before the Council vote, you will see and hear a transmission from your wife and son. You may ask questions to verify that it is not a vid of some sort, but they must be questions that in no way would show the whereabouts of the hostages. No tricks, Ambassador."

"And the child?"

"He will be present; however, he will not be allowed to speak to anyone."

"Very well," said Sarek, looking at Jim's tense face. We will be prepared for the transmission."

"Remember, Ambassador, what the consequences will be if the vote is for admission," Retz warned.

"Vulcans forget nothing," Sarek said coldly. "I know exactly what will happen if the vote is not to your liking."

"We will speak again, Ambassador." The transmission was, as always, abruptly cut off.

Uhura looked at Jim and answered his unspoken question. "The signal is still diffused, but the augmented tracer I rigged up may yield something new on the computer."

"Get on it right away, Uhura." Jim ordered.

"Kirk," Sarek's voice was colorless. "Our time is running out. We must find them and soon. This man will do exactly what he threatens.

McCoy burst out. "Hell, Sarek, just vote the way he wants you to, then when they're released you can meet with the Council and explain to the members exactly what happened and vote again. They all have families, loved ones, they'll understand."

Sarek looked at him, weariness clear in the dark eyes. "Dr. McCoy, I know that it is your concern and anxiety that prompts such a suggestion, but you must realize that the consequences are unacceptable. If I were to make such a decision, it would soon become known though out the galaxy that Council members could be blackmailed or coerced. The Council's function would be nullified and our usefulness would come to an end. It would be an expedient decision, but immoral in the extreme. We do not, I'm sorry to say, have the luxury of personal privilege."

"Personal privilege be damned!" McCoy was livid. "All I care about is getting Spock, Peter, and Amanda back. Tell him, Jim," he pleaded. "They're what's important."

"I can't tell him, Bones." Jim's answer was bleak. "Sarek is right. Our duty to the Federation comes first; we can't do anything else but what we're already doing, trying to find them. In your heart you know that as well as I do."

Leonard McCoy looking at Jim's strained face felt deep remorse. He was also humbled and ashamed. He remembered the many times when Jim's duty had vied with his personal preference and need on the _Enterprise._ Duty had always come first. Men like Sarek, Spock, and Jim had a concept of honor and duty that transcended personal wishes, desires, loves and needs, or even their own lives or the lives of those they loved. Jim wouldn't be swayed from the course his conscience dictated that he must follow. Lesser mortals like Bones McCoy might bow to expediency, but these men would not, could not do so.

"I'm sorry, Jim," McCoy muttered. "You're right, of course, we can't do anything else." He laid a remorseful hand on Jim's shoulder and felt the tense muscles relax just a little.

Uhura came back into the room. The sight of the Captain's face clutched at her heart; he looked so dispirited and ejected, so weary and depressed. _Time for a little diversion, _she thought.

"Captain," she said, her soft voice sounded mischievous. "Admiral Nogura wants an update on the situation. He called while you were asleep, but I didn't think I should wake you up just for that." He dark eyes twinkled at Jim. "I told him you would call back later."

"Uhura," Jim exclaimed in mock horror. "Do you mean to tell me that you kept the Admiral of all of Star Fleet waiting all this time?"

"Aye, sir. I did. Do you think I deserve a reprimand?" she asked demurely.

The two exchanged a glance of perfect understanding. Jim Kirk and Uhura shared unanimity in their opinion of the top brass in Star Fleet. Desk jockeys, paper pushers, most of them.

"Not from me, you don't. But I don't know if I can protect you from the Wrath of Nogura," he added deadpan. "Well," he sighed, "might as well get it over with; get the Admiral on the horn, Uhura, and I'll bring him up to speed."

"Yes, sir." Uhura received an approving pat from McCoy on her way out, and a wink from the blue eyes. The little by play had worked. Jim was looking a little less drawn.

The captain's conversation with Nogura was brief. Jim brought him up to date on every salient point and repeated Retz' conversation with Sarek.

"All right, Captain, we're still keeping the lid on the story and nothing has leaked yet. Keep me informed." Nogura paused, "Jim, we're with you all the way on this one, good luck."

Jim's 'Thank you, Admiral' was suddenly interrupted by a tortured gasp from Sarek. He turned to see the Vulcan, his face ashen, lurch and stagger to the sofa. Had the doctor not steadied him, the Ambassador would have fallen to the floor.

"Kirk, something is wrong, Amanda is in distress; something has gone very wrong!" Sarek's voice was hoarse with strain.


	14. Chapter 13

Hostages

Chapter 13

Spock sat with Peter at the chess board. They were on their third lesson and Spock was very satisfied with the child's progress. Peter seemed to have a natural ability for chess. Spock had not had to repeat any instructions and they had now progressed to opening strategy moves.

"It is not sufficient to know chess pieces moves and their variations, Peter," he explained. "You must also study your opponent and decide how best to counter attack the particular strategy your opponent uses. Then you plan your own strategy accordingly. Chess is primarily a game of strategy as well as a game of logic'

Peter nodded. "When I get home, I'll practice with the computer," he told Mr. Spock.

"That would be quite helpful for practice. However, your Uncle Jim does not like to play with the computer," Spock told Peter.

"Why not, Mr. Spock? Is it because he can't ever beat the computer?"

A slight twinkle appeared in Spock's eyes. Peter knew his Uncle Jim quite well, it seemed. "I think that is one of the reasons, but I believe the chief one is because the computer is 'too logical' for your Uncle Jim. He cannot develop strategies based on what he calls hunches when he plays with the computer. As your Uncle Jim says, 'you can't psyche out a machine.'"

"Who does he play with besides you, Mr. Spock?"

"Occasionally he plays with Dr. McCoy, and with Lieutenant Uhura and a few others. Periodically, we set up tournaments on board ship. Of course we play 3D chess usually. When you have mastered play on the standard chess board, we can proceed to 3D chess. I will be pleased to instruct you, Peter."

Spock observed the small bent head. The child appeared relaxed and there was no apparent anxiety or apprehension about their continued activity. The adaptability and resiliency of humans never ceased to fascinate him. However, it would be well to remember that Peter was a young child, a human child who had in the not too distant past, gone through great sorrow and bereavement. It would not do to take his apparent adjustment for granted or to forget the fragility of the human psyche under great stress. Spock felt that Peter's relaxed state was tied with his and his mother's presence, two adults who represented security and protection for him. To the best of his ability, he would keep the child's faith and trust in him intact.

Amanda sat apart and watched Spock watch Peter. She smiled to herself. _I wonder how Spock will reconcile his growing affection for Peter with his logical stance,_ she thought amused. There was no logic that explained the almost instant rapport that had sprung up between these two. Yet, she knew that Spock would have to, at least outwardly, find a rationalization for his growing affection for the little boy.

Amanda was a pretty fair psychologist. You could not be a human and live with a Vulcan for almost forty years and not acquire some psychological expertise. While she and Sarek had been on board the _Enterprise_ on the journey to Babel, she had watched her son, she had listened, and she had learned much about how Spock made his way among the humans on the ship. She had been pleased to see the affection and respect the command crew, and indeed the rest of the crew, had for her son. But even more, she had been happy to see that Spock, too, cared deeply for those few he called friends, and most especially for James Kirk.

Amanda had carefully observed the dynamics of his friendship with Kirk. Spock's devotion and loyalty to his captain had come through his reserve again and again. She also began to notice that the verbal sparring with the doctor had obviously been a game devised by the two to express their mutual affection without losing face. Yet, it had also been obvious to Amanda that Spock was not yet at ease with the duality of his Vulcan-Human nature. The human part of him was not yet fully accepted and valued by the Vulcan Spock. Amanda hoped that this acceptance would come in time….that Spock would learn, through these human friends who loved him, that feelings were just as valuable as logic, and that he was a rightful heir to both these gifts.

Spock had entered Star Fleet at sixteen, as a cadet, and against his father's wishes. Star Fleet had become his home and then some how, when Jim Kirk had assumed command of the _Enterprise, _and when had made Spock his First Officer, he had also managed to batter down the Vulcan wall Spock had erected around himself. Amanda realized that it was almost against Spock's will that he had allowed first Jim and then McCoy into his life. Jim Kirk's charm, his charisma, his brilliance, his total acceptance of Spock, his blithe assurance that they would become friends, had accomplished the impossible. Amanda and now Sarek too, realized that no where else could the uniqueness that was Spock and the multiplicity of his talents be better utilized. Spock had taken that first step into Star Fleet alone and unaided, Amanda hoped he would take the next step into self acceptance with his family and his friends at his side.

Her musings were interrupted by a transporter whine. Spock and Peter looked up from the chess board to see an Orion appear in the middle of the room. This Orion was not masked and a warning clamored suddenly in Spock's mind. He stood slowly to face the man, his stance relaxed and alert. Amanda moved slowly and cautiously to stand by Peter; she put her hands reassuringly on the child's shoulders.

Spock and the Orion eyed each other in silence for a long moment. The Orion was the first to break the silence.

"I am to take the boy outside for his exercise,' he informed Spock.

"You are not one the two men with whom I have spoken previously." Spock eyed him warily.

"They have other tasks to perform, and I have been ordered to do this one. Its woman's work," he snarled angrily. "It's not worthy of one who has attained warrior status."

Spock observed him and saw that he was quite young and he looked tough. He was powerfully built and well muscled and it was obvious that he considered the task of guarding Peter as beneath his dignity. It was also obvious that he was very angry about the chore given to him.

"We will wait until the others return to let the boy go outside since it appears that you do not wish to attend to him," Spock said. "The other Orion with whom I spoke seemed willing to undertake the task of guarding the boy while he is outside."

"That one is not a warrior; he has been too much in the company of humans. He had even studied with them here on Earth." His disgust for such erratic behavior in an Orion warrior was obvious.

Amanda's hand tightened on Peter's shoulders. "The boy will not go with you. We can wait until other man returns." She did not release her grasp from Peter's shoulders.

The Orion flushed angrily, green staining his high cheekbones. He faced Amanda belligerently. "I have been given this task to perform and I will do it. You have no say in this matter, woman. The child will go with me. Stand aside."

"No," Amanda told him clearly.

The man reached out to grab Peter roughly, but it never touched the child, Amanda suddenly raised her hand and slapped him, hard. He stepped back startled, then growled, an ugly feral sound and reached out roughly for Amanda's face. Before he could even touch her, however, he was lifted and thrown bodily across the room against the wall. The warrior landed with a resounding thud as his head hit the thermo-concrete wall. He threw a shocked glance at Spock and rolled up almost immediately to charge at Spock. Spock side-stepped quickly out of his way, but with a savage roar, the Orion swung wildly at him. Spock leaped back and raised an arm to block the vicious blow.

"Mother, take Peter into the other room out of the way," he ordered, keeping an eye on the furious man.

Amanda grabbed Peter and obeyed.

The Orion was bent on fighting with all the killing force of his warrior race. Spock was mainly concerned with keeping out of his way until he could use the Vulcan nerve pinch. The warrior began circling him like an animal intent on its prey. Suddenly, he grabbed a chair and threw it straight at Spock. Spock raised an arm and deflected it easily, but as the chair bounced on the floor, the enraged Orion threw himself at Spock's rib cage and tackled him. Spock rolled instinctively in the other direction, but it was not fast enough. He felt a rib crack as the hard head of the Orion hit him with a tremendous impact. The Vulcan grunted in pain grabbed at his opponent and was finally able to get a grip on the man's shoulder and press hard. Instantly the warrior's knees buckled and he fell hard to the floor unconscious. Spock staggered slowly to his feet, breathing hard, nursing his rib cage with one arm.

"Spock, Spock, are you all right? Are you hurt?" Amanda's gentle hands guided him to a chair and sat him down. She carefully wiped a little trickle of green blood from a scratch on his face with her soft tunic, and with trembling fingers smoothed down his dark bangs.

Spock permitted the gesture, knowing it to be a balm for her concern, then captured her hand in his and pressed it reassuringly. The turmoil of fear and anger that she was valiantly trying to suppress became his with the touch and he tried again to reassure her.

"Mother, I'm all right." He kept his hand around hers a moment longer. "That was a very foolhardy thing to do, he could have seriously injured you."

"I know, Spock, I'm sorry, but I couldn't let him touch Peter, you know that."

Spock sighed. "I know, but it is not prudent to slap an angry Orion. He is very strong, I believe he broke one of my ribs," he added ruefully.

"Let me see, Spock."

Spock lifted his tunic and black undershirt and ran his hand down his rib cage and grimaced as his fingers came in contact with the cracked rib. Already, a dark green bruise was appearing on his right side, and the area was very tender. Spock considered his injury and judged that he could not afford the time spent on a healing trance right now; instead it must be taped to avoid a punctured lung or worse.

"Mother, we must tie up the Orion before he regains consciousness. I am afraid he will be most unhappy when he awakens, and I do not want another altercation with him."

"Peter, please get something from the clothing box with which to tie up our guest," Spock told him.

"Yes, sir."

"Mother, are you really all right?" Spock glanced at his mother, noticing her pallor for the first time.

"Yes, dear, I'm fine now. But Peter and I were very frightened. That man was like a mad bull; I was afraid he was going to kill you."

"Yes, he was most irate," Spock said in a vast understatement. "I did not wish to injure him, but I fear my caution cost me the broken rib."

He took the cloth Peter handed him, tore it in strips, knelt by the Orion, and tied his hands securely behind his back and then tied his ankles. When he was satisfied with the knots, he rose carefully mindful of his rib, and looked at his mother.

"Now you will have to tape my rib cage, Mother. Perhaps a piece of the bed sheet will do," he suggested.

Amanda hurriedly stripped her bed, and tore the bed sheet into wide strips. She carefully helped Spock take off his tunic and undershirt and gently probed the bruised area on the lean frame. The bruise was now dark green and angry looking, but it had not spread.

"Peter, you hold the end of this strip against Spock's back and I'll wind it tightly around him."

Peter nodded. He no longer felt as frightened, but he was still very concerned about Mr. Spock's injury. He stood very still, gently patting Mr. Spock's shoulder to comfort him just as his mother had always done to him when he hurt himself. Spock reached up and put his hand over the small patting fingers.

"I am fine, Peter. There is no need for concern, my rib will heal quickly." He spoke quietly as he reassured the little boy.

Amada finished her ministrations and surveyed her handiwork dubiously. "Is it too tight, Spock?"

"No, it feels fine; if it's at all possible I will engage in a light healing trance later on to hasten the process. For now, we will sit here and wait for the Orion to regain consciousness. I do not think it will be long."

Amanda began to pace nervously. "Spock, I'm sure your father is now aware that something happened I was frightened for you, and I'm afraid I projected my distress thought the link." Amanda's eyes were anxious as they looked at her son. "He will know that something bad happened to one of us."

Spock, picturing his father's carefully suppressed anxiety, which of course Jim would know about too, tried to calm his nervous mother. "It really could not be helped, Mother. Now you must try to reassure Father by projecting calmness."

"Yes, of course you're right, my son. Sarek will soon realize that everything is fine."

They sat waiting for the Orion to regain consciousness. Peter was restless and wiggled in his chair. For the first time since the kidnapping he realized what the Orions were really like. Now he knew that they could hurt all three of them or maybe even kill them. He looked quickly at Mr. Spock and was relieved all over again to see he was all right. Peter felt ashamed that he felt like crying and that he wanted to see his Uncle Jim with a desperate longing. Most of all, he wanted to go home and crawl in his grandmother's lap like a little baby and cry his eyes out. He told himself that boys who wanted to attend Star Fleet Academy had to be brave and not cry. He blinked rapidly as he desperately tried to hold the frightened tears back.

Spock glanced at Peter's pale, set little face and without difficulty read the turmoil there. If Jim were here he would know exactly what to do for the child. _I must try to do as well as Jim, _Spock thought.

"Peter, come here," he said softly.

The child rose slowly and reluctantly from his chair, and came to stand by Spock.

Spock reached gently for the boy and drew him into the circle of his arm as he had seen Jim do. He bent his head and whispered softly in Peter's ear, and with a sob the child turned, burrowed into Spock's shoulder and cried softly, his arms tight around Spock's neck.

Instinctively, Spock tightened his arm and gently began to pat Peter on the back. He found the action strangely soothing, while at the same time, dispassionately, he knew it to be a totally illogical act. He turned his head, met his mother's eyes and found in them complete understanding.

The Orion groaned and began to regain consciousness. He struggled violently against his bonds, but the knots held. He rolled over and his furious eyes met Spock's.

"Untie me or you will die, Vulcan."

Spock raised a disdainful eyebrow and directed a mild glance at him. "I will not untie you, and I sincerely doubt that we will die. I do not think your superiors will be pleased with the way you have handled this simple assignment," he went on calmly. "I propose to sit here and wait for their return and give them a complete report of your ineptitude."

For the first time, he saw fear on the young warrior's face.

Peter had stopped crying and turning within the circle of Spock's arm, looked curiously at the Orion. Amanda, too, looked at him.

With three pair of eyes staring at him, the young warrior closed his eyes and slumped defeated against the wall to await his fate at the hands of his superiors.


	15. Chapter 14

Hostages

Chapter 14

Chekov and Sulu clutched frantically at the sides of the air cab. Even in heavy battle conditions, the _Enterprise_ had never rolled and lurched like this. His neck jerked and hit the back seat hard! Chekov groaned in pain, he feared that he and Sulu would not live long enough to see who the Orion Ambassador was meeting. He deeply regretted that he would not be able to fulfill his keptin's orders; he had never disappointed his beloved Keptin before. He consoled himself with the thought that death was an excellent excuse for the failure to fulfill one's duty. He thought that after his death, the Keptin would understand and know that he had tried his best.

The air cab driver was singing at the top of his lungs, (more_ like bellowing at the top of his lungs, _Chekov thought bitterly) a hunting song which seem to have the same horrible refrain over and over again. They hit a low air pocket and Chekov's stomach rebelled against the violent motion of the cab and his ears against the driver's voice. His stomach gave another protest and he knew suddenly that he was going to throw up on poor Sulu.

"Sulu, please, make him stop. I am feeling wery wery sick," Chekov said.

Sulu closed his eyes as the driver veered to avoid a terrified driver. He hoped desperately that the traffic police would stop them soon. He was sure they had broken every traffic law in existence, and he knew that presently they were exceeding the speed limit by thirty kilometers at least. His stomach plunged as they made a ninety degree turn, dropped straight down vertically, and stopped suddenly in mid-air. Only the seat belts saved them from flying up and out of the view windows. The sudden stillness was disconcerting.

The driver turned in his seat and grinned at them showing gleaming white pointed teeth. "We are here. The prey you hunt is getting out of his cab over there. You pay now?" His white teeth flashed again, a feral grin "or we can hunt more if you desire."

"NO!" Sulu yelled. "I mean no thank you," he said more quietly, trying hard to regain his composure. He looked at the meter reading and took out his credit chip. The driver inserted it into the compu-slot and the credits were paid to him. Sulu gave him a healthy tip in the fervent hope that he would never have to see him again.

"We'll get out here, don't wait for us," Sulu told him, thankfully setting both booted feet on the ground.

He helped the very pale Chekov out of the cab, and they stood unsteadily and watched the cab make another ninety degree turn and zoom off.

"Sulu, I must kiss the ground, it is a miracle we are alive," Chekov said fervently.

"No time, Pavel, we gotta go, there goes Dizchard." Sulu grabbed the unsteady Chekov and pulled him along.

The scarlet cloak was easy to keep in sight as the Ambassador led them through a maze of back streets in the ancient section of historical Chinatown. It was very crowded, but they managed to keep up. Coming out of an alley way, Dizchard stopped at a small restaurant with a few tables and chairs set outside under a green striped awning. The Ambassador sat down and Sulu and Chekov watched a waiter approached him.

"He is ordering coffee for two, Sulu," Chekov whispered. They crouched in the alley-way directly across from the restaurant. A half wall hid them from Dizchard's sight, but they had an unobstructed line of vision to the Exalted.

They waited impatiently while Dizchard downed two cups of coffee in quick succession. "Look!" Sulu grabbed Chekov's are in excitement. "Someone is coming," he whispered.

A young man walked into their line of site. He was of medium height, his skin a very light green, his hair blue black and thick. His face was thin and handsome, and his clear large brown eyes and firm jaw were arresting even across the street.

"Bozne, moi, Sulu. Look he valks with a limp" Chekov breathed triumphantly. "I think ve have found one of the kidnappers."

"But what the hell is Dizchard doing meeting with one of the kidnappers?"

The Keptin was right, Sulu, the Ambassador is not to be trusted. He's an Orion Pig!" Chekov clutched at Sulu's arm. "They are beginning to talk," Chekov whispered. He cocked his head to listen. The little receiver in his ear was working perfectly.

Chekov could hear that Dizchard's voice was noticeably agitated as he spoke. "Tarz, it's good to see you. How are you, how the hostages? Where have they been taken, do you know where they are hidden?"

"Everything is all right, Ambassador. So far the hostages are fine, and there is no danger to them until the vote," Tarz replied. He paused and from across the street, Chekov and Sulu saw him draw a deep breath and look around before he spoke. "They are being hidden in a sealed room in Alcatraz Children's Park. It is safe enough for now; the park is closed for renovation, and Retz feels secure hiding them there for the time being." His voice rose with anxiety. "Dizchard-Za, what is happening? You waited so long to contact me? Do you know yet how the Ambassador will vote? I must know."

Dizchard's voice echoed heavily in the little receiver in Chekov's ear. "I do not know anything as yet, Tarz, about the Ambassador's vote. But I do know that Kirk feels strongly that Orion should not be admitted into the Council. I fear that Kirk as some influence on the Ambassador and may yet persuade him to his way of thinking. He blames us for the kidnapping and thinks we could have prevented it if we had let the Council know of Retz' threats." Chekov could hear the Ambassador's voice heavy with weariness.

"Dizchard-Za, you know that there was no swaying Retz from his chosen path. He would have done worse if I had not influenced the other warriors at the meeting." Sulu saw Tarz run his nervous hand through his thick hair. "Retz is bent on his vengeance and hates The Federation so blindly that there is no reasoning with him."

"Tarz," Dizchard's voice was heavy, "the other delegates feel Sarek and Kirk should know about you. I strongly opposed them on this issue. It's far too dangerous to let anyone else know your identity. If Retz discovered you are our agent, he would kill you with no hesitation and the hostages too." He shook his head wearily. "For now, it is better left as it is even if we incur Captain's Kirk's enmity."

Chekov's eyes were huge with astonishment as he listened and whispered the conversation to the impatient Sulu.

He heard Dizchard say, "You had best leave now, Tarz. Retz may become suspicious if you are gone too long. We will talk again soon. I will find a different location for us to meet and I will contact you; our usual code. If Sarek votes for us on the Council floor, we must find a way to rescue the hostages immediately. It is imperative for us to do so, or Orion's prestige and credibility will suffer irreparable harm if they are killed. What good would it do Orion to belong to the Federation if they see we have no honor, no care for innocents, and no notion of helping others."

"But how?" Tarz' voice rose in frustration. "I have little influence over the group, and even less with Retz. If the Council vote is for admission, the hostages will die and I will not be able to prevent it."

"We must find a way. What about the transporter, can you find a way to beam them out?"

Tarz shook his head. "Impossible. Only Retz has access to the transporter, and only he has the lock code and coordinates to the room. Since the room is shielded we could not even get life reading from the hostages to beam them out with another transporter. If we could find a way to drop the shields, or if I could get a signal out, it might be possible, but otherwise no."

"Can you smuggle in a communicator?"

"No, everything and everyone is searched before going into the room. Retz trusts no one."

"Then you may have to kill Retz if there is no other way."

"It would be a suicide mission for whoever attempts it; he is well protected by his body guards and he is a formidable warrior." His voice sounded bleak. "I am honor bound to you, Dizchard-Za, and there is no one else to attempt it but me."

"Don't do any thing yet. There is still time to plan. I will think, Tarz. There has to be a way. It may be that we will have to tell Kirk and Sarek. Although I do see how they could get the hostages out; warrior guards, a shielded room, transporter lock key, the park closed, with all that, it still remains impossibility to me." They sat silently. Then Dizchard stood and clasped the young man's arm. "Please go now, Tarz, I must be alone. There are decisions that must be made."

Tarz gazed stonily at the Ambassador for a moment, bowed his head, and walked quickly away without looking back. Dizchard sat down, put his head in his hands and after a few moments, he too, walked away.

"Sulu, quick you must follow Tarz. I will report to the Keptin and continue to follow Dizchard." Chekov pushed the protesting crouched Sulu after Tarz and whipped out his communicator to make his report. He could now look his Keptin in the eye because he had not failed him!


	16. Chapter 15

Hostages

Chapter 15

The group stared aghast at Sarek. His collapse had been totally unexpected and they looked on helplessly as McCoy and Kirk supported Sarek to the sofa. The Vulcan's face was grey, his eyes unfocused looking at some distant sight only he could see.

"Sarek!" Jim shook him, not gently. "Sarek, what's happened?" he asked anxiously. "What's going on?"

"Jim, wait, leave him alone. He'll tell us when we can." McCoy ran his scanner over Sarek's body, concerned for his heart. The readings were within Vulcan normal range, except for the blood pressure reading which was slightly higher than normal. The doctor observed that Sarek's face was slowly regaining its normal color, and the distant look was fading from his eyes. Sarek, aware now, drew away from them, took a deep breath, and his dark gaze took in McCoy's med-scanner.

"I am recovered, Doctor McCoy. The distress from Amanda seems to have passed."

"The hell you say! I'll decide when you're recovered, Ambassador," said McCoy keeping a close eye on the readings. But he nodded to Jim that it was all right to question Sarek now.

"What the hell, happened?" Jim asked him.

"I do not know, Captain Kirk, but Amanda's distress seems to have passed and therefore mine as well; whatever it was, it seems to be over. The bond is undisturbed once more." Sarek's voice was still strained, deep and harsh with restrained emotion, but that was the only sign that he was disturbed. His Vulcan mask was firmly back in place.

Sarek looked up at Jim's anxious face. "I think, Captain, that all is well with the three of them once again. Amanda could not hide it from me if it were not so."

Jim felt a surge of profound relief. Fear and helplessness had torn at him when Sarek collapsed, for he'd realized immediately that the Vulcan's collapse was tied somehow with the hostages' welfare. Now, as well as relief, he felt a raging sense of frustration rising in him. Always and primarily, a man of decision and action, this enforced waiting was tearing him apart. These last two days at odd moments, the faces of Spock, Peter, and Amanda would rise before him like specters in his mind's eye. Spock, the ever loyal, the beloved friend who had accompanied him through a hundred hazards; Peter, child of his heart now, a trust that Sam and Aurelan had left him; and Amanda, gentle and compassionate, a friend to cherish. It was beyond bearing if anything happened to any one of them.

Uhura hurried to answer her flashing comm board; she had turned off the signal in consideration of everyone's nerves.

"What?" she screamed! Her military reserve cast to the four winds. Her beautiful face was alight with joy. "Chekov, you're wonderful, I'm going to give you a big, no a huge kiss as soon as you get here!" They could all hear Chekov's excited voice though the comm. "Yes, yes, don't worry, Captain Kirk is right here. I'll tell him immediately."

She turned her excited, joyful face to Jim. "Sir, sir..." her usually calm voice was shaky with excitement and joy, "Chekov has found out where they are! Captain, he's found them!"

Jim looked at her in disbelief, closed his eyes briefly in thanksgiving, and opened them. He looked at her, his eyes full of unshed tears and his face alight with happiness. He forced himself to walk calmly to the communication board. "Mr. Chekov, Pavel, report," he said shakily, and clasped his hands together to stop their trembling.

"Thank God," breathed McCoy.

Sarek stood raggedly, and walked over to Jim. To the doctor he appeared totally unmoved by the news, until McCoy saw his eyes.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Chekov, I understand perfectly. You and Lieutenant Sulu deserve and will get a commendation for this, I assure you. You both have my profound thanks. Follow Dizchard to where ever he's going, I'll send Ensign Bridges to relieve you as soon as you report the location. Kirk out."

Jim turned to the eager eyes watching him and let out a breath it seemed he had held for almost three days.

"It's true; we know now where they are. They're being held in Alcatraz Children's Park, right under our noses," he told them.

"Oh, sir, I'm so happy. What a relief." Uhura gave him a gentle hug of thankfulness which Jim returned gratefully.

McCoy clapped Jim on the back, muttering thankful litanies to all the deities he knew about.

Sarek's intense gaze never left Jim's face. "Will you explain the situation to us now, Captain?"

"Yes, of course, sit down everybody. This will take a little time. But first, Uhura, tell the _Enterprise _team and let Scotty know I want the scanners beamed at Alcatraz Park. Tell him that I want to know if even a cricket goes in and out of there, and please tell Admiral Nogura I'll have a briefing at 2100 hours." "Uhura," he added, "talk to the Admiral on scramble. We still don't know how Retz gets his information and we can't take any chances, especially now."

"Yes, sir. Captain, everyone will be so happy, sir!"

His gaze rested on Cedar Adams face. "Cedar, it seems that your faith in Tarz was justified to some extent. According to Chekov, he's working undercover as an agent for Ambassador Dizchard and the Orion delegation. He infiltrated Retz' group and his assignment is to protect the hostages. However, practically speaking, there is very little he can do for them now, and Chekov says that the Ambassador and Tarz are both very worried. The closer it gets to the vote, the more dangerous their predicament becomes."

Jim turned to the Vulcan, his anger clear in his face. "Sarek, we were right about Dizchard, he was keeping this from us, and I can't understand why he couldn't have trusted us with the information about Tarz. We could have found a way to help right away. Chekov says Retz would not hesitate to kill Tarz _and _the hostages if he becomes suspicious of betrayal, and that Dizchard's primary concern seems to be to protect Tarz. I just don't get it. I know that if we had known, we could have come up with a plan, a joint effort. Now I just don't feel inclined to trust our illustrious Exalted."

"There is a certain ruthless logic to his behavior, Captain. The fewer people who know about Tarz, the less danger for all concerned. And we have seen that Retz' intelligence organization is formidable, and we still do not know how he is getting his information."

"Excuse me, sir," Uhura interrupted quietly. "Mr. Scott asked me to tell you that all scanners are now aimed at Alcatraz Park and he is awaiting further orders. He said a flea won't be able to get in or out without his knowing. Also, sir, Admiral Nogura will be here shortly."

"Good. Uhura see if you can get a trace going now that we have a location. We still don't know if the terrorist headquarters is also at Alcatraz," Jim added. "Mr. Sulu should be able to get us that information soon; he's following Tarz now. See what you can do anyway, Uhura. Oh, and Uhura, I need to see Lieutenant Kyle right away, please."

Uhura looked at her captain and saw his hazel eyes alight and clear once again, the drawn look gone from his face and sighed with thankfulness. "Yes, sir."

Jim looked around at the waiting patient faces and grinned. His mood had lightened considerably with the good news and the prospect of action and rescue.

"As soon as the Admiral gets here, we can have a strategy meeting. Meanwhile, let me bring you up to date with Chekov's report."

"Finally," muttered the impatient McCoy.

Lieutenant Kyle came in and Jim motioned for him to sit down. Kyle sat and listened carefully to the captain's report about Sulu and Chekov had found out.

Though carefully hidden from the public and unknown to all but his closest friends on the _Enterprise,_ beneath the impeccable and easy going exterior, Winston Matthew Kyle had a shrewd and prodigious intelligence. As transporter chief on the _Enterprise, _his responsibilities were awesome. One little mistake and a person's component atoms could be scattered all over neighboring space. Star Fleet screened all personnel assigned to transporter detail very, very, carefully. McCoy was also scrupulous about making sure that everyone in transporter detail had a quarterly psychological eval without fail.

A transporter chief must have a psyche rooted firmly in the ground as well as an ego that was totally integrated. There was no room for neurosis or incipient personality disorders in transporter detail. Kyle, as Sulu put it, 'had it all together,' and took his job very seriously indeed.

Once assigned to the _Enterprise_, a posting that had made all his colleagues green with envy, he made it a point to be on the cutting edge of any new transporter technology. Now, as he listened to his captain, he assessed the possibility of trying to rescue three people from a shielded room, without coördinates, or without life sign readings or a communicator signal to guide him. As things stood, he concluded, it was impossible. That fact, however, didn't discourage him in the least. James Kirk and the _Enterprise _were famous throughout the galaxy for getting impossible results against impossible odds. He settled back more comfortably in his chair and listened to his captain.

Sulu followed Tarz through the backstreet of Chinatown. He had no difficulty in keeping the Orion insight; his decided limp made it impossible for Tarz to walk very quickly.

_I wonder why he hasn't had that bone and muscle regenerated, _thought Sulu. _Maybe Orions don't believe in that sort of thing. Maybe to them it's a badge of honor to flaunt a wound. _He felt a twinge of compassion for the young warrior whose great physical beauty was marred by the wounded arm and leg. He made a note to find out more about the Orion Warrior Code. Sulu had a vast amount of knowledge of that sort at his fingertips. He had acquired it bit by bit, laboriously, since his days as a cadet at the Academy. It had come in handy many times in his contacts with alien cultures. Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock made it a point to encourage that sort of curiosity in the crew. As Mr. Spock put it, "Experience, curiosity, and self-knowledge are what distinguishes sentient from non-sentient creatures.' Sulu had made that an axiom by which to live his life.

Tarz stepped out of the maze that was historical Chinatown into Grant Avenue, one of San Francisco's oldest main streets. The Orion stopped, looked around, and walked slowly to a shuttle stop.

Sulu, too, walked over and stood behind several waiting pedestrians. He would have to take the same shuttle; there was no help for it. He decided there was no danger of recognition from Tarz. The Orion was very preoccupied and Sulu doubted if the warrior had even caught a glimpse of him at the party. It was, as Mr. Spock would say, an acceptable risk.

A shuttle stopped and the waiting group got on, Sulu carefully staying behind a stout elderly gentleman. He walked down the aisle to the rear of the shuttle keeping an eye on the Orion's blue black hair. He sat, glanced out the view window, and noted that they were definitely heading toward the Great Highway and up to the Bridge.

Sulu led the voices of the other passengers drift over him as the shuttle took them toward their destination. His mind dwelled on possible rescue attempts and his fingers itched at the thought of a fight with some of Retz' men. Anyone who kidnapped innocent people to carry out their own ends deserved all they got at the hands of martial arts expert Hikaru Walter Sulu.


	17. Chapter 16

Hostages

Chapter 16

Spock looked at the Orion warrior and waited patiently for the comm to come on.

Peter yawned and laid his head back against Spock's arm. He sat very still on Spock's knee, silent and sleepy. The warmth of Spock's body was comforting and relaxing.

Spock had allowed the child to remain on his lap, the boy's obvious need vying for, and over shadowing Spock's years of ingrained reserve. The emotional release of tears had relaxed Peter, but evidently had also exhausted him Spock noted. Perhaps a nap might be in order.

He glanced at his mother who also sat silent. Amanda cast a worried look at Peter, met Spock's eye, nodded and stood up briskly.

"Peter dear, let's go in the other room and lie down. I feel a little tired after all the excitement. Why don't I read a story and you can rest for a while." She took the small hand firmly in hers and led the unresisting, silent child into the bedroom.

It was a measure of Peter's emotional exhaustion that he lay down without a word, closed his eyes and promptly went to sleep. Amanda watched him closely for a moment. There were still traces of tears on his face; she touched his forehead with her cool hand, and satisfied, left the room and went back to Spock.

Spock raised an eyebrow at her in question.

"He's fine, Spock, just very tired. I'll let him sleep for a little while. He needs to rest; I don't think any of this can be very good for him."

He nodded, relieved, and turned his gaze back to the Orion. The man was growing noticeably more agitated with the long wait, and Spock thought that now would be a good time to question him. Before he spoke, he considered how Jim would manage the interrogation to get optimum results.

"Your leader has apparently been detained," Spock said conversationally. "I sincerely hope he will forgive your failure to carry out such a simple assignment. Perhaps this is the first time you have been given a task to perform for him?" he asked. "Or perhaps you are not really qualified to handle such a simple task as this one, your inexperience and obvious youth….," he let his voice trail off; it held a very faint but obvious trace of condescension.

The Orion bristled at the tone. "I have carried out many other assignments for Retz," he said petulantly. "He has never found me wanting."

"Until now," Spock finished pleasantly.

"It was the fault of that fool, Tarz. He was the one chosen to do this task, but he had another errand to do, so the assignment fell to me."

"Fell, is the operative word it seems." Spock raised an eyebrow and looked down at the floor in obvious contempt for the ineptitude of the warrior.

The Orion flushed angrily at the insult and struggled furiously to get free of his bonds. His face was bright green with impotent fury as he looked at the calm, impregnable face of the Vulcan.

"You will answer for that insult, Vulcan."

Spock did not bother to reply, but continued to eye him mildly, wondering what other information could be extracted by baiting him further. It was not the sort of intellectual exercise he enjoyed, (except with Dr. McCoy) but he deemed it necessary.

Spock's interrogation experiment with the Orion came to an abrupt end with the click of the monitoring devices.

"Mr. Spock."

_Retz,_ thought Spock, recognizing the harsh voice.

"Yes?"

There was a slight pause as the Orion leader took in the sight of one of his warriors trussed up like a chicken and lying on the floor.

"What has happened here," Retz asked angrily.

"Sir," the young Orion spoke. "These humans would not let me take the boy outside. The woman struck me in the face and the Vulcan attacked me."

Retz threw him one furious glance and then ignored him and addressed Spock.

"Perhaps you could explain, Mr. Spock?" The harsh voice was polite, but there was suppressed rage barely leashed beneath the curtious façade.

"Certainly."

Spock quietly gave a detailed summary of the incident, all the time keeping a close eye on the leader's body language. At the end of the explanation he was rewarded with the faint relaxation of the Orion leader's belligerent stance. With his narrative concluded, Spock sat back and waited.

"You will accept my apologies for this incident, Mr. Spock, and you also, Lady Amanda. It is unfortunate that the boy was badly frightened by this incompetent bumbling idiot, Lizur. Perhaps under the circumstances it would be best to wait until tomorrow for the child's outing."

His eyes turned to look at the young warrior on the floor. "Lizur, you have compromised your leader's word, you have injured one of the hostages, it appears that you have forgotten your mask, and you failed to carry out your orders." Retz' harsh voice fairly seethed with rage. "Rest assured your punishment will be a fitting one for these transgressions."

Looking at him Spock thought, _a dangerous man, a very dangerous man indeed. _He could find it in himself to feel compassion for the obviously terrified young warrior.

"Mr. Spock, if you would move Lizur to the center of the room, I will remove him from your sight."

Without comment, Spock did as he was told, maneuvering the Orion to the exact center of he room.

_These then are the transporter coordinates, _he thought. _The bed, clothing, and food trays have all appeared at this same spot. _

Spock watched Lizur disappear in the shimmer of the transporter effect and stood quietly waiting for the Orion to speak again.

"Mr. Spock, will you require any medication for your injury?"

"No medication is necessary, but a stasis bandage for support of the ribs would be helpful."

"You shall have it shortly, Mr. Spock. And now to the business at hand." His voice changed as he spoke more formally. "Mr. Spock, Lady Amanda, the Ambassador and I have just spoken about your situation. He is amenable to our request for a negative vote on the Council floor, but with a proviso. Two hours before the vote, the Ambassador must see and speak with you both to assure himself of your continued good health. He will be allowed to ask questions to confirm that your appearance is in real time, but these questions must not in any way compromise our security. I will repeat to you the warning that I gave him. No tricks or you will all die." He paused and looked at Spock for confirmation.

"No tricks." Spock agreed.

Amanda spoke for the first time. "What of the boy?"

"He may be with you, but he may not speak at all. You will make sure of this; children are impulsive and sometimes say too much…to their detriment."

"I will make sure."

"Very well, see that you do. We will speak again soon. Your dinner will be arriving shortly. Until later." The screen went dark and the comm clicked off.

'Spock." Amanda's voice was clipped and worried. "What that man said about your father and the Council vote."

"Mother, there is no need for concern. Sarek will not compromise his principles nor will he succumb to blackmail or extortion. You know that as well as I do," he chided her gently.

Amanda smiled ruefully. "I suppose I do. It's just that your father has never been in a situation quite like this one."

"Our present situation will not change the logic of his actions." Spock answered her absently. "Mother, I am going to calculate the transporter coordinates to the center of the room. Then I will go into the shower to continue my work with the drain. I fear it will take quite some time since I have no tools except my hands and the IDIC emblem."

"Spock…"

Something in his mother's voice made Spock turn back and regard her closely. _She looks tired, _he thought, and with some surprised, _she looks uncertain. _His surprise was justified, for through the years of his memories of his life at home with Amanda and Sarek, Spock could not recall his mother ever being uncertain. She was always calm, and with that one exception on the journey to Babel, always serene. She was always sure of herself and of her life on Vulcan with Sarek. Amanda had never faltered even through those years when her devotion to her son and her husband had been tested and divided by their estrangement from each other. Now, as an adult, Spock looked at this woman he had always taken for granted, and in a sort of epiphany, for the first time in his life he saw her not as his mother, but as a remarkable person in her own right. He marveled at the strength of character that had led her to marry and live with a Vulcan male, the tenacity that allowed her to retain her own distinct personality in a world full of logical Vulcans, her gentleness, patience and serenity. He wondered too, at the toll her life choice with Sarek must have exacted from her. It could not have been an easy life for her.

He came and sat down beside her. "What is it, mother? Something troubles you."

"Spock, do you think we will really be rescued from this place? Can Captain Kirk and your father pull off a miracle?" Her eyes were steady on his, inviting the truth.

"I think our chances are quite good, mother. I calculate a 78% chance of success. Of course, if I were with Captain Kirk, there would be an 87% percent chance of success, but Sarek's help will be adequate, and of course Jim has the rest of the crew at his command to help him."

"Spock, I'm very worried about your father."

Spock raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Worry is a useless emotion, and to worry about father, is illogical."

Amanda smiled ruefully. "So Sarek always tell me." She looked at her son, hesitated and then went on. "Your father and I have been married for almost forty years, Spock, and I know him as well as I know myself. He is Vulcan and he is logical, but he is still vulnerable in one area. You and I, my son, are his Achilles' heel."

Spock frowned and shook his head slightly in contradiction, but Amanda went on. "Spock," she reached for his hand and held it between her own two small ones. "Someday in the fullness of time, I will die." Spock's fingers tightened on hers involuntarily in a silent protest. She continued calmly. "I know you and your father will out live me by many years as Vulcans do all humans, but he would have been prepared by then, as you would have been also, by the knowledge that all life comes to an end at the proper time. He might even be prepared to lose you in the course of battle or duty, as all Star Fleet parents must be. But to lose us both, to see us killed, murdered, as a result of a decision he makes on the Council floor, that would be too heavy a price exacted for his principles. The contradiction of losing his family in the pursuit of his life's work for peace and justice would weigh too heavily on him." Amanda's eyes questioned her son. "Can you possibly understand, Spock?

Spock stood abruptly releasing Amanda's hand, more disturbed by his mother's words then he cared to admit to himself. "I do understand your concern, mother, though I do not share it or agree with your conclusions about father. The problem will soon become moot, however, since I am certain rescue will happen before the deadline." He walked rapidly to the shower, leaving Amanda to shake her head at him in exasperation.

_Vulcans, are the most stubborn, perverse, obstinate, mule headed, stiff necked people in the whole universe,_ she thought ruefully. Then she laughed softly at herself. "I should have known better," she murmured to herself regaining her usual serenity.

The dinner trays materialized suddenly in the center of the room, and she went in to wake Peter for dinner.


	18. Chapter 17

Hostages

Chapter 17

Sulu's shuttle made its final stop at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge. Here, all passengers had to disembark for other types of transportation. The commuters could catch their shuttles at the large public transport station or pick up their personal air cars stored in the enclosed private parking area. Here also, the tourists could catch their tour shuttles for Sausalito, Golden Gate Recreation Area, Angel Island Park, Treasure Island, Brooks Island or Alcatraz Children's Park. Golden Gate Transport Central was a huge place.

Sulu followed Tarz to the private parking area and saw Tarz pay his parking fee. Staying well back, Sulu saw him walk quickly to the designated aisle where a late model air car was waiting. Sulu took note of the cobalt blue color and the license number as Tarz unlocked it. _This is where we part company_, thought Sulu, _unless I can rent a shuttle pretty damn fast. . _

He quickly backtracked to the entrance and spotted the fleet of rentals. He chose the first one in the lot and inserted his credit chip, punched in his driver's license number, his Star Fleet I.D. information, and the voice of the rental computer told him that the car was his for the next two days. He saw that Tarz was already on the number 3 take off ramp. Thankfully at this time of the day, it was very crowded in the private ramps and the Orion had to wait in the take off line.

Sulu waited patiently for the Orion's car to ascend, and then he too, took off. He was careful to stay far back as he guided his car up to the maximum altitude limit. Tarz was definitely heading north-east toward Alcatraz. The cobalt blue car was easy to keep in sight, _not the best color choice for being unobtrusive_, thought Sulu. In a few minutes Sulu watched him descend slowly and coast down to land in the Alcatraz parking area. There were two cars parked there already. Sulu swooped once over the island, and then headed north as if going to Angel Island. In ten minutes he would turn around and come back toward Alcatraz. If the air cars were still parked there, then Sulu would be pretty certain that the kidnapper's headquarters was also there.

Chekov too, was having good luck following the Exalted. Dizchard walked to Stockton Street where he caught a public transport shuttle straight to the Bay Hotel. The Orion didn't linger in the lobby, but went directly up to room 917. Through the little receiver Chekov heard him order dinner from room service, then the sound of a shower. From the silence of the Ambassador, there was no one else in the room, Chekov heard the lift coming up and hurried around the hall corner to hide from the room service server.

_Time for a report_, he thought, _and I'm wery hungry_. He pulled out his communicator and talked to Uhura. A grateful Chekov heard her say she would send Ensign Bridges to relieve him, and he could come back to the apartment to eat and rest for a while.

At the apartment, it was dinner time. Sarek, McCoy and Uhura and the others sat down to a fried chicken, mashed potato and vegetable dinner. Sarek, of course, only had the potatoes and vegetables.

Jim was too restless to sit and eat and he roamed around the crowded room bothering everyone as they ate. He stood by the table bouncing up and down on his heels impatiently. "Uhura, are you sure you called everybody in? I need them all here for the strategy meeting."

She looked up at the handsome face hovering above her plate, took a deep breath and answered evenly, "Yes sir, everyone will be here at 2000 hours." She looked pointedly down at the hand that had appeared on her plate. "Sir, are you sure you wouldn't like some dinner?"

Jim looked down guiltily at the piece of chicken in his hand that he had absently taken from her plate. "Um…no thanks, Uhura. Sorry about that, I guess I was a little hungry after all," he smiled sheepishly at her. "But I can't sit down long enough to eat." He took one bite of the chicken, then set it back down again on her plate, oblivious of the aghast expression on her face, and walked around to McCoy, and stood at his elbow.

"Jim, will you light somewhere," said McCoy irritably, "and let people eat their dinner in peace. If you don't watch it, I'm gonna' give you a sedative and put you out," he grumbled. "It's the only way we'll get some peace around here."

A wry grin crossed Jim's face. "O.K. Bones, don't get violent; point taken. I'll go sit in the living room until everyone finishes." He gave Cedar an irrepressible wink as he went out.

The crew breathed a collective sigh of relief as he walked out, leaving peace, silence and hungry people behind him.

"Man thinks he's indestructible; wants to do everything himself and immediately; won't rest, won't eat, won't listen; always up to some dangerous fool stunt," McCoy growled under his breath until he caught Sarek's bemused gaze.

"He's an uncommon and dynamic personality," said Sarek eying the library door.

"Yeah, 'uncommon' all right, 'dynamic' for sure, but let me tell you, Ambassador, Sir, it's a full time job keeping that 'uncommon' man in one piece." McCoy was exasperated. "Between Spock and me, we've managed it so far, but sometimes I've practically had to pull rank as CMO and sit on him to do it, and he really really hates that."

"I would assume then, that Spock provides some logical balance for the forcefulness of Captain Kirk's personality," Sarek suggested. He admitted to himself some curiosity about the relationship between his son and the captain of the _Enterprise._

"Logical balance? Well now, I suppose you could call it that," answered McCoy dubiously. "Heaven help me for admitting it, but to Jim, Spock is a lot more than 'logical balance." He's Jim's sounding board, his strong right arm, the lubricant that keeps that dynamic machine going when nothing else will. He and Jim keep each other on track; steady each other when the going gets really rough. And besides that, they're friends too, best friends. One big reason that Jim is so edgy and restless right now is Spock's not here to bounce things off of, to give him some answers to real tough questions, and to…quote the odds for him," he added. "I sure as hell can't do that for him."

"I see," said Sarek, thoughtfully. And strangely enough, for the first time he really did see. He finally understood the niche Spock had hewn for himself among these humans, and with the one he called Jim most especially. To his certain knowledge, extrapolated from Amanda's always meticulous reports to him garnered from Spock's weekly letters to her, Spock had never had a friend on the _Enterprise_ in the eleven years he served under Captain Pike. Now, after three years under James T. Kirk, he seemed to have acquired several of them, and apparently, all devoted to him. Sarek had to admit to himself that he found this fascinating.

Uhura's gentle dark hand came to rest over McCoy's. "You do a lot of other things for Captain Kirk, Leonard. He couldn't get along without you, and you know it." She smiled into the blue eyes and squeezed his hand, "None of us could."

McCoy retuned the pressure and gave her a tired smile. "Yep, I know that. The whole damn ship would fall apart without this good ole' country doctor to patch you all up."

Jim's sandy head peeked out from the living room. "Everybody finished? Is it safe to come out now?" he asked mischievously of McCoy. The smile that could light up a dark room like a photon torpedo was aimed at the doctor.

"For Pete's sake, get in here," said the doctor scowling at him. "Let's get this strategy meeting started before you drive us all crazy."

"_Preliminary _strategy meeting, Bones," corrected Kirk, poking the doctor playfully in the ribs. "Shall we all go into the living room? There's more room in there."

Sarek, McCoy, Scotty and Uhura sat on the couch. Chekov, Kyle, Riley, Chapel and Cedar found places on the floor. Admiral Nogura came in quietly, waved a hand for everyone to stay at ease, and pulled up a chair and sat down. All eyes turned expectantly to Jim as he stood before them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a preliminary strategy meeting. Tomorrow morning at 0800, we'll meet again along with the addition of the Director of Parks and Recreation, Ambassador Dizchard, Lieutenant Sulu, and possibly others. By now I'm sure you're all aware that the hostages are being held at Alcatraz Park. To go in there to free them safely without loss of life will be a formidable and very dangerous task. For this reason, and because officially all of you are on shore leave and not on duty, anyone wanting to decline this mission may do so without prejudice to your record."

No one said a word.

Jim looked at his people and let the gratitude show. "Thank you, it's no more than I expected from the best crew in the Fleet. Ambassador Sarek will talk to you now. Sir?" Jim moved away and gave the floor to Sarek.

Sarek stood, his face impassive before the group. "Precisely at 1000 hours, three days from today, the Federation Council will convene to vote on the Orion question of admission. I anticipate the session will last 5 hours excluding the designated break for lunch. The time frame is inclusive of speeches, resolutions, arguments for and against admission, and then the roll call vote. The hostages must be freed before I am called to the floor for my speech and roll call vote. The members will speak in alphabetical order, so I will be last. Since this issue is so important, the Council session and the roll call vote will be telecast throughout this sector. Retz and his warriors will most assuredly be watching the proceedings from their headquarters. It is my belief that they will congregate together in one of the rooms to watch the voting proceedings, therefore it is at this time that we must rescue the hostages. There is no margin for error within this time frame." His dark eyes rested on each of the crew members; each of them met his look steadily.

Sarek continued; his voice so calm he might have been discussion the weather. "Two hours before the Council session, at 0800 hours, I will receive a transmission from Retz. I will have an opportunity to speak with Spock and Amanda and determine their physical and psychological condition, and also the child's," he added glancing at Jim. "It may be possible to obtain additional useful information during that time; however, great care must be taken as Retz has made the usual threats of killing the hostages if his security is compromised in any way."

"Admiral?" Sarek nodded to Nogura and sat down.

The Old Man stood at attention, ramrod straight. "We must maintain secrecy at all costs. Admiral Castillo is personally conducting a very discreet internal affairs investigation to determine where, when and by whom the intelligence breach occurred. If and until his investigation is finished, we will not use any additional personnel other then the _Enterprise _crew; it would be far too risky. Captain Kirk has been given full authority and discretionary powers to do whatever is necessary to rescue the hostages. Captain?"

"Thank you, Admiral." Kirk consulted his pad. "We have some additional information on the Orions from medical and science. Nurse Chapel, if you please?"

"Yes, sir." Christine Chapel stood and read from her report. "This is preliminary only; we'll have more information for you tomorrow. First: Retz' splinter group has about ten to twelve warriors, age 19 to 30, all fanatically devoted to him and to their cause. Second: all warriors receive extensive training in armed and unarmed hand to hand combat; they are strong and very well conditioned. Third: standard warrior weaponry, always carried on their person by the way, consists of a small machete type knife, a suicide capsule in the event of capture, and a phaser or more properly a disrupter similar to a Klingon weapon. The phaser has two settings, Disrupt or Kill. It's usually set on Kill. Fourth: the Orions are humanoids, strength and power commensurate with earth humans of equal training and fitness levels. Last: all warriors are male."

Nurse Chapel looked up from her pad. "That's all I have for you right now. I have our staff working full time trying to find out anything more that might be of value and give us an edge."

"Thank you, Christine." Kirk looked at his crew. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have our jobs cut out for us. Are there any questions?" He looked around at the intense faces. "No? Then we'll meet again tomorrow for a more detailed briefing and assignments." He smiled ruefully, "I would advice all of you to try and get a good nights sleep. It won't be so easy to do that after tomorrow. I thank you; you are all dismissed and good night."

As the crew left to their respective quarters, Jim turned to Cedar Adams. "Cedar, may I speak with you for a moment?"

She nodded, eyes questioning.

"Cedar, I don't want to impose on you more then we've already done, but I must ask you to stay here with us until this is over; it would be safer for you, for us, and for the hostages. Are you willing?" Jim asked her, intent hazel eyes fixed on her face.

Cedar looked around at the faces waiting for her answer. In her heart she knew she could not leave without finding out about Tarz; she cared too much for him. Nor could she find it in her kind heart to add to Captain Kirk's worry by saying no. "Yes, Captain Kirk, I'll stay. But what about my job? I'll probably be fired for not showing up at work," she said worriedly. "I can't just walk out of my job, it's totally irresponsible and besides I really need my job."

Admiral Nogura, listening, said, "Don't worry, child, I'll take care of that myself." Then embarrassed by her sweet smile and slightly flustered by her fervent, "oh thank you, sir," he harrumphed and hurriedly took his leave.

Jim saw him to the door.

"Nice child, that, don't want to disrupt her whole life just for doing us a service," he told Kirk.

"Yes, sir," said Jim, keeping his face very still and his eyes on the door. "Good night, Admiral." He kept the grin off his face until the door closed. _So, even the Ice Man melts when a pretty girl needs our help._

He went back to the living room where Sarek was taking his leave of McCoy and the others. Jim collapsed wearily on the couch. His adrenaline high had finally run down; he felt totally exhausted.

"I will take my leave of you also, Captain Kirk," said Sarek. "Please do not get up; I will see myself out," he looked down at Jim's exhausted face.

But Jim roused himself and got unsteadily to his feet. "Good night, Ambassador, I'll see you in the morning, and thank you." It was at times like these that Jim wished Vulcans shook hands.

"No thanks are necessary, Kirk. Good night, rest well." He walked to the front door and closed it softly behind him.

McCoy bustling around in the kitchen came in with a glass in hand. "Drink this, Jim."

"What is it, Bones?" Jim stared suspiciously at the glass. "I don't want it, whatever it is."

"Just some warm milk with some vitamins and a dash of rum in it. It will relax you a little and help you sleep. Come now, drink it up."

"I don't need it, Bones." Jim cast a desperate glance at Uhura, who studiously ignored it. "I'm so tired that I'll sleep like a baby, I promise."

"In a pig's eye, you will. You've had four hours sleep in thirty-six hours, but I know you. Your head will touch the pillow and you'll start thinkin' and tossin' and turnin' all night. You either drink this or I'll give you a sedative. It's your choice. What's it gonna' be?"

Jim eyed McCoy's determined face, saw he meant business and drank the horrible concoction. It tasted just as vile as he had imagined.

He yawned widely and he hoped convincingly. "Good night, Bones, Uhura, Cedar," he said heading for the library. "See you in the morning." He cast one more glowering glance in the doctor's direction and firmly closed the door.

Uhura looked dubiously at McCoy. "Do you think he'll really sleep, Leonard? He looks absolutely exhausted."

"I'll check on him in a little while. If he's not asleep I really will give him a hypo, or we'll try one of those famous lullabies of yours, Uhura."

"Well, call me if you need me. Good night, I'm off to bed. Cedar, let's find you something to sleep in. These San Francisco nights are cold."

"Good night, Uhura, Cedar. Both of you sleep well."

Leonard McCoy pulled off his boots, pulled up a medical journal on his pad and lay down on the couch. He would keep watch until he was sure Jim was asleep. He thought about the many times he and Spock had shared this kind of watch over Jim and decided he missed that computerized logic board of a Vulcan more then he thought possible.


	19. Chapter 18

Hostages

Chapter 18

Spock looked down and considered the work he had finished in the shower. Where there had been a drain, there was now a very large hole big enough to put his hand and arm through to his elbow. As far as he could tell, the large and antiquated drain pipe angled into an L then straightened directly out to the Bay. He carefully cleaned the shower floor removing the debris that might cut small bare feet. He had done all he could, now he must wait until just before the vote to take the comm apart, modify it, and send out the signal. He would send the transporter coordinates out through the pipe and into the Bay, hopefully past the shields. Spock had no way of knowing if the plan would work except by its success and their rescue. Once Jim knew the coordinates, he would know their location, and he would lead the _Enterprise _crew to their rescue. Of that he was certain.

He wondered about the plan Jim had in mind. That there was a plan, he had no doubt. Spock sincerely hoped that his signal would be an additional help to his captain. There was nothing more that he could do.

Spock returned to the front room to join his mother and Peter. They were eating dinner and he sat with them.

"I have finished," Spock told his mother. "You and Peter must be careful in the shower; there is a large hole where the drain was. Peter, you will take care," Spock told him.

"Yes sir, I'll be careful," the child said listlessly.

Spock glanced at Peter's dinner. The boy had not eaten much; he was toying with the food on his plate and his face was pale.

Spock cast a questioning look at Amanda, but she shrugged and shook her head looking worriedly at the boy. Peter had been listless and with-drawn since after his nap; her efforts at conversation had met with total failure.

"Peter, are you well?" Spock inquired gently. "You do not seem to be hungry and that is most unlike the Peter I know." He hand reached over and lifted the small chin to look into the child's eyes.

He was startled at the power of the raw emotion that came to him though the touch; grief and fear welled up in him from the child's mind.

The hazel eyes so much like Jim's met the dark ones. "Mr. Spock, is the pain very bad? Do you feel better yet? You're not going to die are you?" Peter brought out the questions in a rush. The boy's bottom lip quivered, but he clamped his teeth over it fiercely, determined not to cry again.

"Die?" Spock allowed astonishment to cross his face. "Peter, why would you think I was going to die?" He looked at Amanda baffled. She shook her head, perplexed.

"Because…because you were hurt, just like my mom and dad were hurt, and then they died." Peter whispered.

Spock closed his eyes, suddenly understanding what the little boy was talking about. The fight with the Orion and his injury had not only frightened Peter, but it had also triggered all the grief and sadness of his parents' deaths. To Spock, the injury had been minor, to Peter it had not.

"I am not going to die, Peter." Spock spoke with absolute certainty. "An injury to a rib is a very minor one to a Vulcan. The pain was a nuisance at first because I was not prepared for the blow, but it is gone now. I will not even wear the stasis bandage tomorrow. Vulcans heal very quickly," he told the child.

"Are you sure?" asked Peter, his eyes fixed on Spock's face.

"Absolutely sure," answered Spock. "Over the years, your Uncle Jim and I have broken our ribs several times and we are none the worse for it. Correct, Mother?" He turned to Amanda, inviting her to help him convince the child.

Amanda smiled at Peter. "Absolutely correct. Mr. Spock is as healthy as the proverbial horse; I'm his mother and I should know."

Peter looked from mother to son and saw the truth on both their faces. A smile broke over his face like sunlight breaking over water. "That's good." He took a deep breath. "I'm sure relieved to know that because I was very worried," he confessed, picking up his fork, "about Mr. Spock being hurt." He looked at Spock with an expression of extreme seriousness on his face, and tried to lift one eyebrow, but succeeded only in lifting both. "You have relieved my mind considerably," he said deepening his voice in an uncanny imitation of the Vulcan.

Amanda coughed violently, dropped her fork and bent to pick it up, taking quite some time to retrieve it. When she faced Spock and Peter again, her cheeks were pink but her face composed. She kept her eyes carefully on her plate, however.

Spock's lips twitched once, but by dint of Vulcan discipline, he managed to keep his face quite still.

Peter, unaware of the mirth he had provoked, began to eat with good appetite.

Spock looking at him closely was relieved to see color back in the child's cheeks and the strain gone from his face. _Three more days_, he thought, and _the child will be back with Jim._ _Hopefully, this incident will be put in the background, and Peter can once again resume a normal life. _The Vulcan made a mental note to discuss the grief and the fear of loss that Peter had not resolved with Dr. McCoy. Perhaps two or three sessions of conversation with the good doctor would benefit Peter's state of mind. Jim, too, would do all he could to help the child over this unsuspected insecurity as would his grandmother.

But now, he decided, further distraction was needed. "Peter, would you set up the chess board? We have time for another lesson before your bed time. When you see your uncle Jim he will be most gratified to see the rapid progress you have made in chess. You might even want to challenge him to a game."

At the mention of a chess game with his uncle Jim, Peter grinned. That's exactly what he wanted to do, beat Uncle Jim in a chess game. He set the chess pieces carefully on the board, and then looked expectantly at Mr. Spock.

Amanda came over and stood behind Peter to watch. Spock indicated that Peter should make the first move. Peter moved king's pawn to king's four, a conventional opening move that Mr. Spock had taught him.

"Queen's pawn to queen's four," responded Spock and then addressed the bent head. "You should know, Peter, that there are two basic philosophies among chess players. One is to play to checkmate, to win; the other is to play to stalemate, thereby discovering your opponent's strengths and weaknesses. A player may accrue points with either strategy; however, when there is a stalemate, both players receive equal points. The decision about which strategy to use depends largely on the character and personality of the chess player." He watched carefully as Peter said, "queen's pawn to queen's four," then continued softly, "I will tell you a story that will illustrate the personalities and philosophical of two of history's greatest players."

Peter looked up listening attentively. "In the mid twentieth century, many countries were at odds with each other both politically as well as philosophically. Two of the countries were the United States of America and the Soviet Union. They were also extremely competitive in sports **and** in chess. At that time there were two brilliant chess players who represented their respective countries, Robert J. Fischer of the United States of America, and Boris Spassky of the Soviet Union. Robert Fischer's chess philosophy was to play to win. He always played to Checkmate. Spassky believed in using the Stalemate strategy to discover his opponent's weaknesses and then using these weaknesses to win. Once after a very important chess tournament, both men were interviewed and asked to describe their philosophies about chess. Spassky said this, "Chess if very much like life," but Robert Fischer said, "Chess is life." So you see, Peter, the difference between these two answers not only determined the players strategies, but their philosophies of life as well."

Peter looked at Mr. Spock, a question in his eyes. "Do you mean, Mr. Spock, that the two men lived their lives the way they played their chess?"

"I mean Peter, that their philosophies determined their choice of strategies in chess as well as their personal decisions and the conduct of their lives. Many elements work to shape our lives," he explained carefully, "but some of the most important are the abilities to set goals, plan how to accomplish these goals, and make decisions, even hard decisions that may cost us pain. Do you understand what I mean, Peter?"

Peter nodded his small face thoughtful. He gazed at the chess board and he could see that in two more moves he would be in big trouble. He glanced at Spock and grinned. "Should I resign now or play even if I know I'm going to loose?"

Spock's dark eyes twinkled, "Your first big chess decision is now upon you, Peter. What do you want to do? Your philosophy of chess will determine your decision."

Peter studied the board carefully and answered thoughtfully. "I'll go ahead and play, Mr. Spock. If I play to the end, I can learn something even if I lose."

"I commend your decision, Peter."

They finished the game in silence. Then Spock analyzed the moves step by step to show Peter how to avoid making the same mistakes again.

Amanda interrupted. "Gentlemen, it's bed time for Peter. You've had a very long day, Peter, and you need to get some sleep."

Obediently, but reluctantly, Peter rose from his chair. He had really enjoyed his game with Mr. Spock. "Ugh, I hate bedtime," he said and made a fearsome face at Amanda, but then he smiled at her in repentance. "Ok I'll go. Good night, Lady Amanda," he gave her an affectionate hug which Amanda returned. They he went around to Spock to do the same, but hesitated as he faced Spock.

Spock spoke with his usual calm. "It is quite all right, Peter, a hug is not lethal to a Vulcan."

Peter put his arms around Spock's neck and hugged him tight. "Good night, Mr. Spock," he said softly into Spock's ear.

"Good night, Peter, sleep well."

Spock looked thoughtfully after the boy. "He seems to have regained his emotional equilibrium," he told his mother.

"Yes, for now. But I'm concerned about how this continued captivity will affect him," Amanda said worriedly. "Until yesterday when Peter told me, I didn't know about the death of his parents. What a tragedy for the child. He's remarkably well adjusted after such a loss, but stress is cumulative, Spock, his shock and trauma may be delayed and Peter may be more vulnerable then we realize."

"I, too, have considered the detrimental effects our captivity may have on Peter, but all we can do for him is what we are doing, Mother. After our release, I will speak to Dr. McCoy and Jim about the possibility of delayed trauma." Spock sighed. He felt an unaccustomed weariness. The weight of Peter's care as Jim would have done was a constant concern to him.

Spock spoke with apparent detachment, but Amanda could see tiny indications of stress and concern on his face. Slowly, but inexorably, Spock's growing affection for Peter was tearing away at his impassivity.

Amanda rose from her chair and laid her hand gently on her son's shoulder. "I'll think I'll go to bed now. Good night, my dear."

"Good night, Mother."

In the now empty room, Spock sat and considered the day's events. His rib was healing quickly. Retz was apparently satisfied with Spock's explanation of the incident with Lizur, Peter had been reassured, and Amanda was once more her calm and serene self. Yes, he was disquieted.

Retz had indicated that tomorrow Peter would be taken outside. Spock weighed the advantages against the possible negative effects on the boy should something go wrong. Logically, the lowering of the shield for beaming Peter in and out would significantly increase their chances of being found. Knowing Mr. Scott's obsessive thoroughness, any anomaly in the on going _Enterprise_ sensor scan for one Vulcan and two humans, would be detected quickly. The shields were also lowered very briefly for meals. One anomaly or the other might possibly be overlooked by Mr. Scott, but not both. Yet the decision was proving difficult; very difficult. Spock was vexed with himself. Peter's safety weighed disproportionately heavy on his mind, despite the fact that logically there was very little danger to the boy. Yes, Peter would be out of his sight and beyond his protection, but only for thirty minutes. He rose abruptly and walked quietly to the bedroom. His mother's breathing assured him she was sleeping peacefully. He stood a still slim figure over the bed and looked down at the child. Peter slept peacefully, one hand tucked under the pillow. Spock reached down with long fingers and gently brushed the unruly lock of hair from his forehead. It stubbornly refused to stay and sprang back. Peter, in his sleep, slightly disturbed by the touch, opened his eyes, looked at Spock and smiled dreamily. Then his eyes closed and he turned over.

_I will decide tomorrow_, thought Spock, moved by an uncharacteristic impulse to postpone a difficult decision which should not have been difficult at all, and giving in to it gratefully. _Tomorrow morning will be soon enough to decide. _


	20. Chapter 19

Hostages

Chapter 19

Dizchard, Exalted of Orion, awoke with the familiar leaden feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had slept fitfully, his sleep troubled by specters of fear for the hostages, Tarz' safety, and the future of Orion within the Federation. He felt as if it had been several years since he'd last gotten a good night's sleep. It would probably seem like several more before he actually did.

Today was the third day. The Council would meet day after tomorrow. The leaden feeling deepened in his stomach.

He reached for the hotel comm to order breakfast. Coffee first, he decided. He had developed an appreciation for the human beverage…a mild stimulant, yet strangely soothing and warming to the body. It seemed to have the same effect on the Orion nervous system as it did in the human one. Breakfast and then a meeting with the Orion delegates. He would set up another meeting with Tarz for tomorrow; time was running out for the hostages. _Day after tomorrow_, he thought again, dread seeping into his bones. The fate of many hung on the Vulcan's vote. He detested for any situation to be out of his control, and yet here he was in the unprecedented circumstances of having three events completely out of his control; the life or death of the hostages, Tarz' safety, and Sarek's vote.

The hotel lobby clerk buzzed him, interrupting his dark brooding. A personal message for the Ambassador was on its way up, quite urgent, soothed the clerk, conscious of the Exalted's dark expression on the viewer.

Dizchard waited impatiently for the message and the coffee. They arrived together and Dizchard took a gulp of the hot beverage as he read the message.

_To: Ravek Dizchard, Ambassador, Exalted of Orion_

_From: Heihachiro Nogura, Admiral of the Fleet, S.F.C._

_Re: Federation Business_

_Request your presence at briefing, 0800 hours. Stardate 5312.5_

_Location: Command Post_

_Urgent you comply. Star Fleet shuttle and driver at your disposal to escort you to briefing. _

_(Signed) Nogura, Heihachiro, Admiral of the Fleet_

_ Star Fleet Command _

Dizchard cursed long and fluently in all the languages he knew. The last thing he wanted was to face James Kirk or Sarek of Vulcan again. Well, there was no help for it. It was an order politely couched as a request. Nogura had really left him no choice other then a deliberate insulting _No _to the Admiral and to Star Fleet. This Dizchard knew would be the death knell for Orion chances to join the Federation. He had better compose himself and put the best face on it that he could before he reported to the other delegates. He message to Tarz would have to wait.

James Kirk awoke when the dappled sunlight from the window hit his face. As he opened his eyes, it was 0600 and he felt surprise. He had not expected to sleep through the night, but his sleep had been restful and dreamless. _Maybe there is something in that milk and rum nightcap Bones gave me_, he thought. _Better not tell him though, or I'll be drinking that stuff for the rest of my command._

Throwing a robe over his pajamas, he walked out into the silent living room Bones was on the couch sound asleep, mouth open, snoring in syncopated rhythm. In between the snores Jim could hear Uhura's humming softly in the kitchen. He shivered as his bare feet touched the chilly floor and stood silently at the kitchen entrance watching Uhura.

She looked up and smiled her radiant smile at him_. He looks better_, she thought. _The strain is gone from his face and he looks rested. _Uhura, along with all the command crew, and most especially Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy shared a fierce protectiveness for their captain. They knew that many times Jim Kirk had unhesitatingly put his life on the line for them; in return his crew gave him unstinting loyalty and deep devotion. Simply put, they loved their captain and would follow him, as Bones put it, into the heart of a super nova without a second thought.

"Good morning, Jim. I was just getting some breakfast. Would you like some?"

"Thanks Nyota, whatever you're having is fine with me. Have you had coffee yet?"

"Just one cup, but I'll take another."

Jim poured out the two cups, handed one to Uhura and sat down at the table. "Cedar still asleep?"

Uhura nodded. She placed a plate of eggs and sausage in front of him and sat down with her own. Jim drank his coffee and there was silence for a few minutes. Uhura glanced at Jim to see a somber expression on his face, and his plate of food untouched.

"What is it Jim?" She placed her warm hand over his.

Jim turned his own and grasped her fingers tightly. "I have to call my mother this morning and tell her about Peter. I should have done it immediately, but I just didn't have the heart to do it, I couldn't do it, so I put it off. I know that was wrong, but this will be such a terrible shock for her."

"Also," he added softly, "I was hoping that…"

"That we would have them back by now," Uhura finished compassionately. "Jim, at least today you can tell her that day after tomorrow Peter will be back here with you, and that we know they're safe; that will count for a lot with your mother."

"Yes, you're right, it will, but she's been through so much, Nyota."

Jim patted the comforting hand gratefully. "Thanks, Uhura." He stood up and squared his shoulders." I'll be in the library, Nyota. I don't want any interruptions for a short while, ok?"

"All right, Jim. I'll see to it, no one will disturb you."

He walked out and she heard the library door shut firmly behind him, then she became aware of a deep silence. McCoy had stopped snoring. She went into the living room to find him sitting bleary eyed on the couch, gazing unseeing at the wall.

"Coffee?" she asked helpfully.

McCoy grunted an affirmative.

Uhura put the hot mug into his unresisting hand and he drank thankfully taking large gulps of the steaming black liquid.

Reality settled slowly around McCoy as the warmth seeped through his body. "Thanks Uhura, I needed that. It's so good I just may give up my bachelor status just for your coffee, darlin'. He stretched. "I feel like hell, this couch is full of lumps. They can send people across the galaxy, but they can't get rid of lumpy mattresses," he grumbled and looked around. "Where's Jim?"

"He's in the library, talking to his mother."

Realization dawned on McCoy's face. "Damn, Winona's goin' to take this hard; her only grandchild and she's crazy about the kid." He rose stiffly. "Well, I better get in there."

"Wait, Leonard. Jim said no interruptions," she told him. " I promised him."

"Oh. Hell," he sighed, and sat down again. "Jim always wants to do the toughest ones alone."

They waited silently, watching the library door until at last it opened and Jim came out. He face was as pale and drawn as it had been the night of the kidnapping, his hair tousled from running his fingers thought it. He came and stood wordless by the couch until McCoy, tilting his head back asked, "Jim, how is she? How'd she take the news?"

"Bones," Jim paused, his eyes were full of misery and hazy with unshed tears. "First my dad, then Sam and Aurelan, and now Peter, and her first concern was for me. She's worried about me, for God's sake." He swallowed painfully.

McCoy cleared his own suddenly constricted throat.

"That's the way mothers are, Jim. Bless them all," he said softly.

"She wants to come right away, but I talked her out of it for a couple of days at least. She has to make arrangements with Frank Thompson, the guy who helps her with the farm, to come take care of the animals. And what good would it do her to be sitting here waiting and worrying? I can do that for both of us," he said bitterly. "When we get Peter back she'll be here to spend the rest of my leave with us."

"I think that's a very good idea, Jim. Peter will definitely need his family around him for security and support after he's released."

"Bones….how much do you think this will affect Peter? It's so soon after Sam's and Aurelan's deaths. What will it do to Peter? He's still such a little boy," the hazel eyes looked bleakly at McCoy.

"Medically, it's hard to say, Jim. I'll give him a good psychological goin' over as soon as I can. It's not gonna be good for him that's for sure, but I'm pretty sure he'll be all right in the long run. He's well-adjusted, he's intelligent, he's young and resilient, and he has you and Winona to help him get over it."

'And he has Spock and Amanda now. I know they'll help Peter all they can."

McCoy looked doubtful. "I won't argue with you about Amanda, she's a mom after all, but I don't know how much emotional support Peter'll get from Spock. He's about as comforting as a thermo-concrete block."

"Leonard!" Uhura protested.

"Stow it, Bones!" Jim responded angrily. "Spock's not here to defend himself, and you just remember all the times we've all depended on Spock…he never let any of us down, not ever!"

"Ok, Ok, forget I said anything," said McCoy, but he was satisfied with Jim's reaction. The misery was gone from Jim's eyes replaced by a glint of anger. The fact that the anger was directed at him bothered McCoy not at all.

Uhura's board flashed. She hurried to answer it and returned looking pleased.

"Captain, Chekov relieved Marie and he reports that Dizchard received Admiral Nogura's message to attend the briefing. It seems he didn't take it well at all, cursed up a storm," Chekov said. She smiled. "Also Sulu reports that all's quiet on Alcatraz. The same three shuttles are still parked there. He and Riley are taking turns on recon to avoid suspicion and they've rented different shuttles for today. Traffic is pretty heavy, so there shouldn't be any suspicion about their fly overs."

"Good, tell them to stay on top of things. I don't want anything to go wrong at this point," said Jim.

"Aye, sir."

McCoy went to answer the door chime and Cedar came out of the guest bedroom. "Good morning," she said. She looked small and lost in McCoy's borrowed pajamas. "Any news?" she asked Jim.

"Morning, Cedar. No there's no news," Jim answered. "Are you hungry? Coffee?"

She shook her head, her fine hair feathering around her small face. "I'll get some later." She looked down at herself ruefully. "Captain Kirk, I'll be needing some clothes. I only brought what I had on, and I can't keep wearing borrowed things, especially if I look like this in them," she smiled. "Nyota's clothes don't fit me at all, or obviously Dr. McCoy's."

Jim glanced at her and suppressed a smile. She looked like a small waif in McCoy's pajamas. "Yes, of course you do. Give Uhura your size and we'll get some things from the _Enterprise _for you." Jim gave her his most dazzling smile. "We really appreciate your coöperation, Cedar. It would be a lot more difficult for us if you weren't here."

She blinked under the power of his smile. "I'm glad to do anything to help, Captain. Also, to be perfectly frank, I'm staying because I'm so worried about Tarz. Do you think he'll be all right?"

"If he's careful and Retz doesn't get suspicious he'll be fine."

"Perhaps Dizchard will have some further news about the young man," said Sarek, coming in with McCoy. "We can also ask what his role will be during the rescue operation."

Jim's eyes narrowed. "I'm still not sure that including both men in our plans is a good idea."

"Captain, logically they must be included. We need their knowledge and cooperation."

"Yes, I know, Sarek, but I don't like it."

"We are of like mind in that, Captain."

Jim glanced at Sarek. Had the Ambassador made a small joke? _No, of course not, _he thought. Vulcans, he had been reliably informed on several occasions, do not make jokes, not even small ones. However, remembering several suspicious comments from Spock down through the years, Jim had always had his doubts. And Spock always got that same bland and too innocent look on his face. Jim set the thought aside for further study now that he had another Vulcan to observe.

"Sarek, would you like some breakfast?"

"Later, thank you, Captain. However I will have some coffee now. Your San Francisco climate is cold for Vulcans. When Amanda and I are here, she always makes coffee for me in the morning to as she puts it, 'warm us up.' " His face softened as he spoke about his wife.

"Which reminds me, Jim did you eat?" asked the doctor. "You haven't had a decent meal in days."

"Un…no I haven't yet, Bones, but I will. I'm just not very hungry."

Kirk's communicator beeped.

"Kirk here."

"Scott here, Captain."

"Yes, Scotty, what is it?"

"Sir, 'tis the shields at that Park. They've been lowered and raised twice now. Once verrry briefly, then again a mite longer. I managed to get life form readings," he paused, "two humans and one Vulcan."

"Scotty, that's wonderful!"

"Aye, sir that it is. I also have exact coördinates now, but we don't want to attempt a beam out. What if the shields should go up while we were attempting it? T'would be verry dangerous sir, verry dangerous indeed. I would na' like to chance it."

Jim shuddered at the thought. "Don't even think of it, Scotty. No, we'll just go with the rescue operation as planned."

"Aye sir. Also, Captain, I've been monitoring the rest of the complex and the goings in and out. I get Orion life form readings and so far I have eight distinct Orion gentlemen going in and out of the Park. There may be more that haven't come out yet, though."

"That tallies with Sulu's reconnaissance reports, Scotty. Keep me posted and don't forget the briefing in an hour."

"Aye sir, I'll be there. Scott out."

Jim turned to the waiting group. Peter's stressed and worried Uncle Jim had been put aside for now and Captain James T. Kirk had taken over. "Uhura, we need to set up in here for the briefing. There will be Ambassador Dizchard, Admiral Nogura, the Parks man, Dr. McCoy, Sarek, Scotty, Kyle, Sulu, Chekov, Chapel, Riley, Rand, you and I. I also need a holo projector, pads for everyone, and hard copies of the Federation Council's agenda down to the minute. Sarek, could you help us with that?"

Uhura looked up from her pad and tapped her teeth with her stylus. "I better see about extra coffee and food, the briefing may be lengthy."

"I'll take care of that for you, if I may, Uhura," said Cedar. "I don't want to sit around while everyone else works."

"Great, thanks Cedar. I'll get started on the rest of the preparations. Captain, Janice Rand will cover for me on communications for short while," she told him.

"Captain," Sarek said, "the agenda for the Council vote is at best tentative. Diplomats, I fear, are notorious for not adhering to their allotted speech times."

"Yes, well, we'll just have to do the best we can. As Spock once told me, 'diplomacy seems to prolong crisis, not end them', and this particular crisis will be no exception."

Sarek wisely remained silent. He could see that the Captain was in no mood to listen to the merits of diplomacy or of diplomats in general. It was true that not all members of the Federation Council were as logical and rational as Vulcans, (Andorians and Iotians came to mind), but, diplomacy was the best available alternative to more unpleasant methods of settling disputes. And even Vulcans might be forgiven for a lapse of logic into irritation with such representatives as those of Troyius, for example. He must remember to tell Spock about the time the Troyan Ambassador had been smitten with Amanda. The Ambassador had offered Sarek three beautiful and wealthy women of his choice in exchange for Amanda. All of Sarek's diplomatic skills had been called forth in refusing such a munificent gift without giving offense. Amanda had been greatly amused and had, on several occasions since, reminded Sarek (at strategic moments) that it was on record that she was worth the equivalent of at least three beautiful rich women.

Sarek's musings were interrupted by the unexpected arrival of Admiral Castillo and his aide Commander Aarons.

"Ambassador, Captain, good morning. We bring good news. We've found the intelligence leak. It was traced to an AI clerk who has access to medium level security information. Yesterday, we discovered that this man has deposited large sums of credits into his bank account. It was paid through two intermediary banks which we traced back to Orion."

"Good work," McCoy said.

"That's great news, Admiral," said Jim. "But he hasn't been alerted I hope?"

"Certainly not. We have been very discreet," said Commander Aarons.

"Good, we might make use of that clerk. It might be a good idea to plant some fictitious Intel for the Orions. We'll have to see, but it's always good to have a card up our sleeves if we need one."

"When this is over, we'll court marshal him for treason, and send him off to a penal colony for the rest of his life."

"We also have another slight problem developing," added Aarons. "The press people have been nosing around. So far there have been no leaks, but I don't know how much longer Admiral Nogura can keep the lid on the story. Right now all they're interested in is how the Council delegates will vote, but that may change at any minute."

"Indeed, that would be a most serious development," said Sarek. "We do not want to complicate an already serious and delicate situation with random factors whose outcomes are unpredictable."

"Then, gentlemen, let's all hope that Admiral Nogura's formidable power extends to the fourth estate," said Jim.

The Admiral and Aaron left, and the time until the briefing passed relentlessly slow. Tempers were a little short, people were busy and preoccupied and again Jim did not eat. He had not eaten lunch or dinner yesterday, nor breakfast this morning. Cedar noticed that McCoy looked concerned as he glanced at his Captain and the untouched food on his plate and Sarek too, looked grave as he saw McCoy looking at the Captain.

Sarek realized that the rescue operation hinged on Captain Kirk, yet he like McCoy was aware that to say anything to Kirk about his health and well-being would cause anger and further stress to the already tense young captain. _I wonder how often Spock must bite his tongue with this volatile human,_ thought Sarek_. And further, how does he handle a difficult situation when logic obviously will not server? _

"Captain Kirk?"

Jim lifted abstracted eyes to Sarek. "Yes, Sarek?"

"The food is not to your liking?" asked Sarek pointing to the untouched plate.

"What? Oh….yes, it's fine, just fine," said Jim looking slightly puzzled.

"Since you have not eaten, I thought perhaps you would prefer another dish. I am certain we can offer you something that will appeal to your palate," he said. "It's not logical to refuse food that one needs for continued health and energy just before a difficult task."

Jim looked at Sarek, then at McCoy, then at his plate and immediately understood. He grinned sheepishly. "Ok, ok, I'll eat all ready. Sheesh, will you both stop worrying about me."

"Vulcans do not worry," and "I'm not worried," said Sarek and McCoy in unison.

'Oh sure, where have I heard that before," snorted Jim. But he began to eat and McCoy flashed Sarek a small smile of thanks which Sarek acknowledged with a faint inclination of the head. Sarek was surprised at the sense of accomplishment that he felt. It was as great as if he had bested a recalcitrant Federation member in Council debate.


	21. Chapter 20

Hostages

Chapter 20

The early morning ground slowly to the briefing hour. Uhura finished her preparations and the designated crew members began to assemble for the meeting. The room began to buzz with conversation, activity and excitement.

Admiral Nogura arrived accompanied by the man from Parks and Recreation. The last one to arrive was Dizchard, Exalted of Orion. He came in aloof and silent and gave a hostile glance at the assembled crew and sat without a greeting or word to anyone.

Jim eyed Dizchard speculatively, but he also chose not to speak to the Orion. _Two can play that game_, he thought grimly. He stood at the front of the room to begin the briefing. "Thank you all for being so prompt. We'll begin by bringing everyone up to date on the current status off the hostage crisis. Admiral Nogura?"

As the Admiral brought everyone up to date on the last couple of days, Jim's eyes contemplated the Orion. He could see Dizchard's shocked face at the amount of information his command crew had gathered; that in fact, everything that Dizchard had kept from them was known to them and that Nogura was unfolding it all before his eyes.

To Jim, Dizchard looked deeply shocked and the captain was gratified to discover that they had shaken the Ambassador.

Nogura finished and Jim stood to introduce the Parks and Recreation director.

"This is Mr. Alli Rashid, director of Alcatraz Park, he will give us all the information about the layout of Alcatraz," he explained. "Hard copies of the Alcatraz map for everyone, please Uhura. Mr. Rashid, thank you for coming; we appreciate your coöperation."

"Captain Kirk, I'm happy to help in any way I can." Mr. Rashid looked deeply troubled. He was a slight thin man, obviously nervous about his role in the proceedings, but also obviously willing to do his part to help.

"Holo on, please," he said to Uhura, and smiled a shy thanks to her. The hologram image of Alcatraz Island appeared in the center of the room. "As you can see," said Mr. Rashid, "Alcatraz Park is located just inside the Golden Gate. It's 22 acres of mostly solid rock, and was indeed called The Rock, when it was a prison. The coördinates are in your hard copies as well.

37°49′36″N 122°25′24″W / 37.82667°N 122.423333°W / 37.82667; -122.423333:

It has a varied and rich history which I will not trouble you with now. The only original building still standing is the 214 foot light house built in 1934 old calendar. It's closed to the public because of its extreme age and the fragility of its structure. The Park itself is composed of three buildings constructed in a U shape, plus a play ground area, walks, gardens, and a large parking lot. The main offices are located in the horizontal part of the U, which faces the southern part of the Island. The buildings were constructed of thermo-concrete with a façade of antique stone. The stone is quite old, salvaged about 150 years ago when the old prison ruins were leveled to build the Park. The Park is closed to visitors this year, it's being completely renovated to celebrate its sesquicentennial at the end of next year. It is a very extensive project, plumbing, electricity, flooring, windows, doors, paint; all will be replaced or restored."

Sarek spoke, "How is it then sir that the Orions are on the premises?"

Mr. Rashid looked uncomfortable as he answered. "Well, sir, what happened is this: phase I reconstruction is complete, that is the playground area, the walks, the garden, the parking lot and grounds. However, phase II is waiting for the architect who is presently on Luna on a project. The men you tell me are Orions, are known to me as representatives of a company that produces docu-dramas, Galaxy Films, Inc. They asked for, and obtained permission to film the history of Alcatraz Island, (so I thought), from its beginnings as a prison to the present day children's park. They went through all the proper channels and obtained all the necessary permits to occupy the offices and film for ten days. It grieves me deeply that our lovely children's park is being used for what you have described to me, and that I was, in a way, responsible for aiding in this horror." And indeed, Mr. Rashid looked so distressed that Dr. McCoy and others hastened to reassure him that the fault was not his.

"Please continue, Mr. Rashid," said Sarek patiently.

"Yes, of course, sir, your pardon. To continue: the buildings are all three stories high and there is a partially buried basement level. They could not dig too deep because of the bed rock. Each building is rather utilitarian, they are all constructed the same, with high ceilings and exterior doors at the entrances and exits, very high narrow windows and interior doors leading to the main hall; in fact, though it pains me to say this, the facilities are perfectly suited to hold and hide the kidnapping victims. Please look at your maps for details of the interiors of the building and the rooms in relation to the grounds. I have also given you blueprints. These are self-explanatory, I believe." He turned to Jim. "Captain, I believe that concludes my part of the presentation and I will try to answer any questions you may have." Mr. Rashid sat down wiping his forehead with clear relief that his part of the briefing was over.

"Thank you, Mr. Rashid. That was very comprehensive. Any questions? No, then let's continue. Look at your maps and the hologram and Mr. Scott will pin point the location of our people. Mr. Scott?"

"Aye, Captain. We now have the exact location of our people and the transporter coördinates also. If you will look at your map you will see that they are being held on the west side of the U, at the lower end where it meets the horizontal portion." He nodded to Uhura. "Enlarge it please, lass." The projection grew, and Scotty pointed with his stylus. "Here 'tis the exact room where they are. I need the blueprints now, lass." The hologram changed to show the interior blueprints of the building. "Look at your blueprints. You can see in that corner there are two main rooms and a small bathroom, probably these were used as offices at one time," he looked at Mr. Rashid who nodded. "This is where the hostages are being held. My scanners show the rooms are shielded, though the shields dropped periodically for very brief periods, probably for beaming in meals and such. The captain and I agree that we kenna' take a chance on beaming them out during such a brief period, t'would be verrry dangerous." Scotty looked at Kyle who nodded in agreement and who stood up to continue.

Kyle's British accent sounded more pronounced than usual. "We will have to destroy the shields to beam out the hostage in complete safety. We can't take a chance that the shields could come back up as they are transported out. You all know how dangerous that would be." Their faced showed that they remembered every horror sorry about transporter accidents that they had very heard.

"Beaming out will only take place after I receive the signal that the shielding device is destroyed. The hostages will then be beamed up directly to the _Enterprise _where Dr. M'Benga and Nurse Chapel will be waiting for them. Hopefully there won't be a need for their services, but you never know," added Kyle somberly as he sat down.

Captain Kirk stood. "Ambassador Sarek already briefed you on the Council voting procedures yesterday. He also explained that the Orions will let him to speak to Spock and Amanda for a few minutes. After we talk to Amanda and Spock, the Ambassador will have to go directly to the Council chambers for preliminary meetings."

Jim turned to Janice Rand, "Yeoman Rand, you will go with the Ambassador to the Council floor. We'll keep in contact with you via communicator. You'll brief the Ambassador on the rescue operations and report to him immediately when the hostages are free."

"Aye sir."

"The team will consist of the following: Commander Scott, Lieutenant Sulu, Ensign Chekov, Lieutenant Riley, Ensign Bridges, Dr. McCoy, and myself. Admiral Nogura will be on stand by with backup from Star Fleet Security if needed. However, if possible, we want to avoid using outside people to preserve secrecy about the kidnapping. Lieutenant Kyle will man the transporter; Lieutenant Uhura will be at communications, Nurse Chapel and Dr. M'Benga on medical detail, and Yeoman Rand on the council floor with the Ambassador and Dizchard."

At the sound of his name, the Orion looked momentarily startled. He had been totally ignored until that mention so he had remained silent throughout the entire briefing. Not one of the crew had addressed him or even acknowledged him in any way.

"Just what is my function at these proceedings, Captain," he asked coldly.

"You'll know soon enough, Dizchard." Jim went on, "everyone has their assignments for tomorrow. The rescue team will beam into the Park area, proceed to the Orion headquarters, surprise and subdue them, destroy the shields, report to Kyle, and he will beam them out to the ship. We will take the Orions into custody until Star Fleet takes over."

"If that's all there is to it," McCoy said sarcastically, "it shouldn't take long at all."

"That's the idea, Bones," said Jim deadpan, "it shouldn't take more than a few minutes." He turned to Sulu who had been unusually silent, "Lieutenant Sulu will show us the site he has selected as the best for us to beam into without being seen."

Sulu stood and looked at his friends. He saw that all of them looked as eager and anxious to get on with the rescue mission as he did.

"After many recon passes over the Park, and after surveying the traffic patterns around it, Riley and I think we can beam in with no problem. There has even been enough activity around the Park air space for us to go in with shuttles, but transporting in will be quicker and quieter." He turned to Uhura. "Map on please, Nyota." Sulu pointed to the hologram display with his stylus. "We will beam in here, directly outside the exterior southern door of the west wing. During recon, I've only been able to spot one guard and he patrols sporadically. I'll take care of him," he grinned. "The door will, of course, be locked, but Mr. Rashid has provided us with the access code to open it."

"Nyota, I need the blueprints now." The display changed to show the blueprint diagrams of the Park buildings. "Mr. Scott has pinpointed the exact location of the Orion's headquarters." He pointed. "Here are the two rooms upstairs that seem to house the equipment and where most of the warriors seem to assemble. We will beam in, go upstairs, and hopefully find the Orions fully engrossed with watching the Council telecast. Complete surprise is our best weapon. Mr. Scott's primary task is to disable the equipment and then signal Kyle to beam out the hostages. The rest of us will have our hands full…of Orion warriors."

"Remember they'll all be armed to the teeth, I don't want to spend the rest of my leave patching you people up," grumbled McCoy.

"Don't worry, doctor, I for one, don't want to see the inside of your sick bay either," said Riley.

Jim went on, "Admiral Nogura will be at Fleet headquarters quietly disclosing the fact to Admirals Castillo and Tao that we are totally demoralized by the kidnapping and that Sarek's vote will be against admission. The I.A. clerk will dutifully report this to Retz and we hope that will lull any suspicions he might have."

"Medical has a few things to add. Nurse Chapel?"

Christine Chapel looked at her friends soberly. Since the kidnapping her concern for Mr. Spock's safety had been paramount. Her worry notwithstanding, she had continued to do her job with her usual efficiency and serenity. Now, she was concerned for her crew mates and she looked at them with worry in her blue eyes. "I would like to remind you of what I said yesterday. Orion disrupters are set on Kill. Also they have those knives that can be thrown as well as used in hand to hand combat. They are exceptionally well-trained and tough and their weapons are used to kill and not injure. Be very sure that you stun, kill, and disarm every warrior."

Dizchard shifted uneasily in his chair and spoke for the first time. "Captain, the Orion code, like the Draconian, is written in blood. Retz' group has sworn to die rather than join the Federation. You must be ready to kill if necessary."

"Exalted, we are ready to fight and if necessary to kill, but we hope it won't come to that. However, my people are also exceptionally well-trained and will do what they must."

"They will need all of their skills with the warriors. Orions have always known the faces of death and war, Captain. They are not familiar with the faces of restraint and compassion. It is my hope, Kirk, that once we are part of the Federation, this will change." Dizchard's bright blue eyes were very somber as he said those words. He had discovered during the briefing that these people were honorable and loyal warrior in their own right. His people could learn much from them. He felt ashamed and humbled at how he had misjudged them. It was not a feeling to which he was accustomed and he didn't care for it, but there it was.

"I would like for you to stay after the briefing for a short time, Ambassador," said the captain. "All of you are dismissed until 0900 tomorrow when we will assemble for the telecast from the hostages. Try to get a good night's sleep, I recommend a hot milk and rum night-cap." Jim glanced wickedly at McCoy.

McCoy ignored the glance. "Captain, I'd like for you and the crew to schedule a workout for this afternoon and for tomorrow morning. Everyone has been off duty for a few days and they need to sharpen their hand to hand combat skills."

"So ordered. See to it, please Nurse Chapel. Dismissed everyone."

"Mr. Rashid, your knowledge and your coöperation have been invaluable. Please remember that absolute secrecy is essential. Don't discuss this with anyone," said Jim.

"Captain, of course you can count on my total discretion. If possible, would you let me know of your success of which I have no doubt?" asked the little man."

"We'll let you know sir. And thank you."

The crew filed out noisily, their boots pounding on the floor, and left a silent Sarek, Nogura, McCoy and Kirk. Then Jim spoke. "Dizchard, the question has been raised about how Tarz could be of help during the rescue mission. We feel it's up to you to suggest possibilities and for you to decide if we can trust him to help us."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim noticed that Cedar had crept in from the kitchen to listen.

"As to trust, Captain, I have no doubt of that. His honor is pledged to my service. However, I think there is little he can do except perhaps to help you during the fighting which is certain to occur. His wounds prevent him from optimum performance, but he has the element of surprise on his side. Retz does not suspect him; for many months, almost two years now, I have taken many steps to make sure this is so. I have laid false trails, disavowed him to all of Orion, cast him from my clan, all this to make sure of his safety. I may as well tell you now, Captain. Tarz is my son. He was embedded with the Warriors as an agent in deep cover a long time ago. His wounds came as a result of one of Retz' strikes against the Federation. He proved his loyalty to Retz during the strike, but Retz will cut his throat without a moment's hesitation if he suspects any treason to his cause. That is why I could not tell you, the danger to him is very great." Dizchard's eyes were filled with pain. "However if you wish it, I will get word to him about the rescue mission and he will do what he can to help you."

Jim took a deep breath. He had not expected this, and looking at the shocked faces around him he knew no one had. "I'm sorry Ambassador. I know this is very difficult for you and we can understand your reluctance. However, an inside man will be of great help to the rescue team. The element of surprise may throw Retz and his men off for just that fraction of a second that would give us an added edge in fighting."

"I agree," said Admiral Nogura.

"I, too," said Sarek. "It would seem then that both our sons have been in grave danger, Ambassador."

"Very well, Captain. I will get word to Tarz."

"Fine. Gentlemen, that's all for now. We'll meet again tomorrow for the telecast."


	22. Chapter 21

Hostages

Chapter 21

Spock sat with uncharacteristic tenseness at the table with his mother beside him. Tarz had just taken Peter outside and the half hour loomed before them. Amanda too, sat still and silent waiting for the time to crawl by. Neither mother nor son felt much like conversation.

Spock knew his mother disapproved of his decision to let Peter go outside, but this morning he had decided that the risk was small and the benefit large. That his decision was a logical one did not seem to ease the concern (he did not say worry; Vulcans do not worry) he felt nor did it make the waiting easier. His mother had not voiced her disapproval out loud, she was far too tactful and disciplined to burden him with that, but Spock could sense her concern for Peter and her impatience to have him back by her side.

"What time is it now, Spock?" she asked.

Spock suppressed a sigh, and answered patiently. "It is four minutes later than when you last asked me, Mother. Peter will be outside for 18 more minutes."

With a visible effort, Amanda shifted her thoughts from the time and Peter and she rose to walk around the table.

"I'll be very happy to see and speak with your father. I'm sure he and Captain Kirk have already decided on the questions they will ask us."

"Indeed."

With her eyes on the comm, Amanda asked softly, "Will you be able to give them any clues about where we are?"

"Knowing Jim, I would say that by now he knows our whereabouts and further more that he already has a plan for our rescue." Spock spoke almost inaudibly, his eyes also on the comm.

Amanda looked surprised. "Do you really think so Spock? James Kirk would have to be a magician to get us out of here."

"Not a magician, Mother, but a formidable and intuitive tactician. He and Father will be looking for any weakness that the telecast might show them about the Orions. So far, I have not found any," he added thoughtfully, "unless you consider the altercation with Lizur; that certainly was not planned, and Retz was very angry about it."

Amanda nodded, and then asked, "I wonder what happened to that young man?"

"It is probably just as well not to ask, Mother. I do not think you would like to know the answer," Spock responded dryly. "I imagine he suffered severe punishment. Retz does not seem like that type of man who suffers fools lightly."

Amanda continued her nervous pacing. She was determined not to ask Spock for the time again. To distract herself she thought back to Spock's childhood. She had never been an overprotective parent. On the one hand, because Sarek would have chided her for being illogical, and on the other hand, because Vulcan children are trained from a very early age to be self-sufficient. By the age of seven Vulcan children know how to survive the rigors of the Vulcan desert alone and Spock had completed his kahs- whan successfully. By the time Spock left home at the age of sixteen, he was completely trained in all the survival and martial arts skills. With Peter, the situation was very different. She felt a strong sense of responsibility for him because of the trauma the little boy had been through. He was particularly vulnerable at this point in his young life. Amanda found herself feeling fiercely protective of this child who had lost so much, but who remained steadfast in his affections even with the fear of more loss staring him in the face.

"Five more minutes, Mother," said Spock into the silence.

Amanda looked at him gratefully; he had known she didn't want to ask again.

The five minutes passed in an oppressive and absolute silence, and then the silver whine of the transporter suddenly materialized Peter in front of them.

"Peter, did it go well?" Spock spoke calmly, not betraying his relief by so much of a twitch of an eyebrow.

"Peter, are you all right? What happened, dear?" Amanda asked anxiously.

"I'm ok," said Peter. "I ran around for a little while, then me and Tarz threw a ball around for a few minutes and I showed him how to play baseball. They don't have baseball on Orion, but they have other kinds of ball games. Tarz liked what I showed him about base-ball. Gosh it felt good go outside." "You know," he added, "he's a pretty nice guy. He told me not to worry, that we're going home pretty soon."

Amanda and Spock looked at each other.

"Did he say anything else, Peter?" asked Spock.

"No sir. I asked him how he knew that we'd be going home soon, and he said he just knew. That Mr. Sarek would do the right thing tomorrow. What is the right thing, Mr. Spock? What is Mr. Sarek going to do?"

"Tomorrow is the Federation Council vote, Peter. The Council members will vote either for or against admission of Orion to the Council. These Orions want my father to vote against admission of Orion to the Council. Many other members would follow Sarek's lead and vote as my father does. Tarz was referring to that when he said my father would do the right thing."

"How do they know how Mr. Sarek will vote?" Mr. Spock?"

"That I do not know, Peter."

At that moment the comm came on and Retz' voice boomed loudly in the small room.

"Mr. Spock, Lady Amanda, I trust you were both satisfied with the boy's outing?"

"The results seem to be satisfactory," said Spock, looking closely at the new color in Peter's cheeks. "The boy seems to have obtained some benefit from the fresh sea air."

"I am gratified that you are please, Mr. Spock," Retz said dryly.

"I wish to tell you that arrangements will begin shortly for the telecast with the Ambassador. Precautions will be taken to insure that Star Fleet is not able to trace the transmission and discover your location. Their technology is sophisticated, but I can assure that ours is superior."

"_Doubtful_, thought Spock_. You do not have Lieutenant Uhura and Mr. Scott to get around your technology. _"I have no doubt that you and your warriors will do your usual efficient job with the transmission and that Star Fleet will no doubt try their utmost to trace our location. It is expected. After all, I am a highly trained and experienced officer and no doubt they wish to insure that their long-term investment in me is not foolishly squandered by my premature death."

Retz cast a suspicious glance at Spock's impassive face, but saw nothing there to cause comment. The Vulcan's calm face told him nothing.

Retz looked at Amanda. "Lady Amanda, I wish to remind you that the child must remain absolutely quiet during the transmission. Also, there can't be any overt or covert attempt on your part to pass along any information to your husband."

"I would not be so foolish as to put either my son's life or the child's life in danger," Amanda told him contemptuously.

Retz looked at her angry face, but said nothing more. His gaze strayed to Peter and he smiled showing his teeth. "See that the boy understands. I would not want there to be a mistake during the transmission."

Retz turned back to Spock. "In a few minutes someone will come to set up the room. I will take my leave of you now."

Almost immediately the whine of the transporter materialized an Orion in the center of the room. It was Tarz wearing the same black clothing and his mask that he had worn during the kidnapping. He carried a lethal looking knife at his belt and his phaser hung ominously from his useless left arm.

Moving silently Tarz began to set up the room for the transmission, removing the table and the other items from the camera angle. He placed three chairs in front of the monitor and looked around carefully. There was nothing to see but the three chairs. To Sarek and Jim who would be watching, the room would look like a sterile empty white room with no identifying objects.

"You will all be seated now. The transmission will begin shortly. The child will sit in the middle chair."

As the hostages sat down, Tarz took his place behind Spock and unhooked the phaser rifle from his shoulder. The rifle was aimed ever so casually to the side of Spock's head.

_So_, thought Spock. _It will also be a war of nerves_. Sarek and Jim were to be spared nothing. He saw his mother's frightened eyes glance just once at him then determinedly she looked away. Then he felt Peter's small hand creep into his lap. Spock took the child's ice-cold fingers into his own warm hand. He could feel the tremors going through the little boy's body.

Despite the rigid restraint Spock had imposed on himself, he felt rage rise in him at the toll this was taking on Peter. He clenched his teeth with the effort that control cost him and managed to speak with his usual calm.

"Peter, there is no need to be frightened. This will be a routine transmission just like the ones that you and your grandmother make to your Uncle Jim from Iowa to the _Enterprise_. The only thing I want you to remember is that you are to be absolutely quiet during the transmission. No matter how badly you want to say something to your Uncle Jim, do not say a single word. Do you understand?"

Peter nodded mutely and Spock felt the tumult of fear and anxiety pouring into his mind from Peter's fades a little. He glanced over at his mother and she gave him a small smile of reassurance.

Suddenly the monitor came on and there were Sarek and Jim with Dr. McCoy standing behind them.

There was a moment of electric silence as they took in the sight of each other…and the sight of Tarz with the rifle. It was several seconds before McCoy found his voice, and when he spoke he sounded hoarse with strain. "Spock, are you all right? Is everyone ok?"

"Yes, Doctor, we are well."

McCoy's keen blue eyes took on that clinical look Spock knew so well from his own sick bay experiences as he looked in turn at each of them. "They look ok," he muttered to Jim. "But dammit how the hell can I really tell without examinin' them." He placed an encouraging hand on Jim's tense shoulder. "Go ahead, Jim. Talk to them."

Spock saw Jim swallow convulsively and then heard him clear his throat. "My God, Spock, how are you? Is Peter all right? Have they hurt you in any way?" His voice was tight with the anxiety he was trying to hide.

Spock looked at his captain and saw immediately the toll that the last few days had taken on him. Jim's face looked drawn and pale and he was obviously thinner.

"Captain…Jim…we are all well as you can see. Although our captivity has not been pleasant, we have been well treated. Our food supply has been adequate and we are provided with some amenities. Peter is in good health and has conducted himself in a way that any parent would find admirable." Spock felt the child twitch beside him and pressed the small hand warningly.

Spock forced himself to look impassively into the anguished eyes of his friend. "Jim we really are well. There is no need for concern."

Sarek looked closely at his wife's face and found traces of stress and fatigue in the delicate bone structure. His sense of relief at seeing her was so profound, that at first he could not speak.

"Amanda."

Across the distance their eyes met.

"Sarek, my dear. Are you well? I've been so worried about you. Have you been taking care of yourself? It hasn't been that long since your surgery and I don't want you to over tax yourself. I hope Dr. McCoy is keeping a close eye on you. Any type of stress is bad for you and will delay your full recovery." Amanda's words came rapidly, a sure sign she was nervous in spite of her apparent composure.

"My wife, it is gratifying to know of your concern for me, but at the moment it is your health and well-being that is in question." Sarek's body language was more relaxed now, for it was obvious that Amanda was herself in spite of her ordeal.

Amanda smiled at her husband. "We are all as well as can expected under the circumstances. Six days of being cooped up is not pleasant, but we have tried to keep busy."

She looked at Jim Kirk. "Captain, Peter has kept up with all his school assignments with my help and he is getting very proficient in chess. He wants to challenge you to a game as soon as we leave this place. And as you can see, Peter is looking very well: he has eaten well and is getting some exercise."

Jim looked hungrily at the child, and then he nodded his thanks to Amanda for her words of reassurance. Peter's eyes met his uncle's and he grinned at him. The sight of that smile seemed to relieve Jim's anxiety even more than Amanda's word and Spock saw him unclench his fists.

"Captain," as he spoke the word, Spock sensed rather than saw the phaser rifle move to point directly to the back of his head. He saw alarm leap into McCoy's eyes, and Jim's face pale visibly under his tan. His father's lips twitched once uncontrollably.

Spock's gaze never faltered from Jim's face. "Captain, are there any questions you would like to ask me to verify the authenticity of this transmission?"

Jim tore his eyes from the rifle with a visible effort and looked at his First Officer. "Yes, Spock, there are. But is that rifle really necessary?" he asked angrily, his anxiety getting the best of his temper.

Retz' disembodied voice answered from somewhere. "Yes, Captain. It is necessary. Ask your questions, time grows short."

Jim looked over at Sarek who nodded. "Very well." The captain drew in a deep breath. "Spock, who won our last chess match?"

"What did Lieutenant Uhura buy during her last shore leave?"

"She bought a small hand-made harp made by natives of the planet Areites, which she then presented to me as a gift."

"What is the name of Dr. McCoy's daughter?"

"Her name is Joanna."

Jim turned to Sarek. "Ambassador, it's your turn."

Sarek looked at his wife. "Amanda, what was the color of the gown you wore to the Vulcan Science Academy Graduation ceremonies?"

"It was violet with gold bands around the sleeves and hem."

"When was the last time you visited Earth?"

"It was at the last general session of the Federation Council when I came with you for a few days of shopping."

Sarek turned to his son. "My son, when was the last time you were on Vulcan?"

"The Captain and I spent ten days with you and mother less than one solar year ago."

"What was the name of the pet you had as a child?"

The name of my pet sehlat was Ee-chiya."

Sarek turned to Jim. "I am satisfied that this is a genuine live transmission, Captain. Are you?"

"Yes, I'm satisfied. Do you hear Retz? We're satisfied. What happens now?"

The disembodied voice of Retz echoed loudly in the room. "Now that you are satisfied and know we have kept our part of the bargain, it is up to the Ambassador to do the rest. We will be watching the proceedings very carefully. As soon as the Assembly votes the captives will either be released immediately or…well, you know the alternative. The Council will meet in an hour. Say your goodbyes gentlemen, your time together has come to an end."

McCoy scowled into the camera. "This is barbaric. As a doctor I must protest your treatment of these people. Who knows what effect this ordeal will have later on, especially to the child? And let me tell you, if this is an example of how Orion's behave, we sure don't want you in the Federation."

"Bones!" Jim protested fiercely, "Shut up!"

"No, Captain, let him speak. It seems that we are in perfect agreement. We certainly do not want to be a part of your Federation." There was amusement in Retz' harsh voice. "Nor do we want to belong to a decadent and dissolute collection of planets that are so fearful of war that they must join together to feel secure. You interest me, Doctor, what else do you have to say?"

"The doctor has nothing more to say," said Sarek. "This conversation will avail us nothing. It is what happens on the Council floor that is important and I must be there in precisely 47 minutes."

"Very well, Ambassador, if that is your wish. We will stop this most interesting discussion and wait for your vote."

Retz' voice carried a smile as he said, "Another time perhaps, Doctor, we can continue our conversation."

"In a pig's eye," muttered McCoy to Jim.

"My son, my wife, I must take my leave of you now," said Sarek. It will not be long before you are released. Goodbye Amanda, Spock. My son, take care of your mother and the child."

"Yes, Father."

"Spock…"

"Yes, Captain."

"Take care of Peter for me."

"Yes sir, you know I will do so to the best of my abilities."

'And Spock…I…you…take care of yourself, too."

"I will try to do that also, Captain."

Captain and First Officer exchanged a long look of communication before Retz terminated the transmission.

Spock stood abruptly and released Peter's hand. "I assume that now we must wait for the Council to meet," he turned to Tarz.

"Yes, in less than four hours the voting will begin and you can be assured that Retz will honor his word to the Ambassador and you will be released unharmed."

As he spoke to Spock, Tarz looked at his prisoners curiously. Really, these humans were amazingly resilient creatures. They seemed unconcerned about their possible fate. He felt that his own resiliency was in question at the moment. His sacred charge from Dizchard to keep the hostages alive was weighing heavily upon him and he wanted more than anything to leave this room and see if a coded message had come to him from The Exalted. He had sworn to give his life if necessary for the safety of the hostages, but everything in him rebelled against such a fate. He had made plans for his future life; he had much to strive for and to do for himself and his people.

Tarz had often thought of the irony that had brought him to this end. He must defend and protect people who at one time had been his bitter enemies. Indeed, it had been humans that had both cost him the use of his arm and leg, and yet paradoxically had worked unceasingly so that he might regain full use of his limbs. Who could understand such people?

He remembered Cedar's gentleness, her unflagging kindness to him, an alien alone in a strange hospital, her eagerness to learn all she could about his culture and family. She was horrified to find out that Orion women were often sold into slavery and how their strange green beauty brought a high price in some illegal markets. Cedar had cried when he told her his own mother had been a slave in his father's house and how she was sold when he was ten years old. He had never seen his mother again. Tarz shook off his introspection and weariness impatiently. There was still a lot he had to do and he must not give in to his exhaustion and depression.

"I will leave you now; we will meet again after the vote. Try not to worry." He touched a button on his communicator and transported out.

Spock and Amanda looked at each other. "Now we just have to wait, Spock."

Spock nodded. "It would seem so, Mother. Peter, I believe you have some school work to do for my mother."

With Peter occupied, Spock took his mother aside and said softly. "I will set up the transmitter as soon as they send in our lunch and the Council is in session. Then I can be certain the warriors are occupied watching the proceedings. If we are not rescued by the time the voting takes place, the discovery of the transmitter becomes unimportant."

Spock paused, weighing his next words carefully. He was uncertain how his mother would react to what he had to say.

"Mother, if rescue does not come and the Orions decide to kill us, they will probably lower the shields to get us out quickly since I doubt they will do it here. I will try to create a diversion and I want you to take Peter and run. If it's necessary take to the water and swim. I am not sanguine about your chances to get away, but it is certainly better than waiting to be killed."

Amanda looked at her son. "Spock if you think for one minute that Peter and I are going to run and leave you here alone, you are very much mistaken." She lifted her chin in that definite way Spock remembered so well from his childhood. As a boy he had come to recognize it as a signal that she had come to an important decision and would not be swayed from her course. Even Sarek had learned that he could not budge her then. When it was necessary, Amanda could be as stubborn as any Vulcan.

"Mother…"

"You will not change my mind, Spock."

"Mother, you are being extremely illogical," Spock said, exasperated.

"Perhaps so," Amanda agreed serenely. "But that's the way it will be."

"My primary responsibility both as a Star Fleet Officer and as your son is to protect you and Peter. I am endeavoring to do so but you are not cooperating."

"Spock, just how do you think I could face your father and James Kirk, as well as live with myself, if I did what you suggest? How do you think such a decision would affect Peter? No my son, we will get through this together or not at all."

"Father would agree with me and so would Jim.

"Perhaps so, if it were their own lives that they were risking, but I know that neither of them would leave you behind to save themselves. Isn't that so?"

Mutely Spock looked at his mother and could only nod a reluctant agreement. For one of the few times in his life he had been out flanked in an argument and he felt helpless. He didn't much like the feeling.


	23. Chapter 22

Hostages

Chapter 22

As the transmission ended, Jim sank wearily on the couch. He felt emotionally and physically drained from his tension. The sight of Peter, Spock and Amanda just out of his reach had unnerved him. The phaser rifle pointed at Spock's head hadn't helped either. He looked at McCoy and Sarek and saw that they too were slow to recover. Even Sarek's normal self-possession seemed stretched to the breaking point.

"Well, at least we know they're doing ok," muttered McCoy unhappily.

"They did seem to be in good physical health, Captain," Sarek said.

"Yes, I suppose so. They looked ok on the surface. I just keep worrying how all this is going to affect Peter's mental health. Over and over I ask myself is this going to hurt him permanently. If only I could have heard his voice." Jim shook his head in frustration.

"Jim, stop worrying. When we get him home I'll go over his psyche with a fine tooth comb. I promise you the boy will be fine."

"I can't help worrying, Bones. He's so young and so vulnerable. Not being able to do anything to help Peter, Spock and Amanda has made these the longest six days of my life, Bones."

"I know, Jim. We all feel the same."

Jim visibly pulled himself together and got up from the couch. He had to put aside his worry, frustration and tension. For the sake of the hostages, he had to be Captain Kirk, commander and leader of the rescue mission; his mind had to be clear and focused. "We'd better get our people ready. Sarek, are you ready?"

"Yes, I am prepared, Captain, but I still have a concern about the time frame. Perhaps we should go over it with the crew once more before I leave for the Council chambers."

"Very well, Sarek." Jim turned to Janice Rand who had taken notes during the transmission. "Yeoman, call the team together, please."

The crew, fully armed and equipped for the assault, assembled in the living room. To Jim, they looked like a lethal guerrilla strike force, which in a sense he supposed they were.

"Ok, people. It's almost time. The Ambassador has requested we go over the timing of the strike once more. There is absolutely no room for error. Mr. Sulu please go over the full sequence of events step by step for us."

"Yes, sir." Sulu stood and began. "Lieutenant Kyle will be on the ship manning the cargo bay transporter and scanner. At the same time, Rand will be on the Council floor with the Ambassador; she will be acting as his aide, and will be in constant contact with Mr. Scott via communicator. Rand and the Ambassador will leave here in exactly 30 minutes. Dr. M'Benga and Nurse Chapel will be on the ship ready to receive the hostages as soon as they are beamed aboard. They are prepared for a full medical emergency if need be. Cedar will be in the gallery with the Admiral and report directly to him by communicator as soon as the hostages are freed. She also will be at his side acting as his aide.

In a few minutes we will beam up to the _Enterprise _cargo bay. It's the only place big enough to beam all of us to Alcatraz at the same time. The two teams will beam in simultaneously to the designated spot I have marked on your map; it will be at that exact minute that Ambassador Sarek begins his speech after his summations. Team I of the strike force will consist of Captain Kirk, Dr. McCoy, Bridges, and myself. Team II: Mr. Scott and Lieutenant Riley; Lieutenant Uhura will be here at the Comm station and will monitor us at all times. As soon as we beam in to the grounds, we will disable the outside guards and all of us will make our way to the upstairs room. Mr. Scott's and Riley will go directly to the equipment. Their chief responsibility is to destroy the shields and the transporter. The rest of us will be busy trying to subdue the watching Orions.. Ambassador Sarek's speech is exactly 15 minutes which is how long we have to subdue the Orions, destroy the shields and transporter, and rescue the hostages. His speech will start as ambiguously as possible with some Orion history, their present needs, etc. to give us a little extra time to get in and subdue the Orions. We don't want the Orions to get even a hint that the Ambassador plans to vote for admission. The roll call vote will begin immediately after the Ambassador's speech and we want the hostages safely on board the ship by that time."

Sulu went on. "As soon as Mr. Scott destroys the equipment, he will signal Kyle who will then scan for and beam out the hostages. Once this is done, Kyle will let Rand know. She will then tell the Ambassador and Dizchard and she will also tell Cedar who will then inform Admiral Nogura very discretely. That way the press will get absolutely no hint of what is going on."

"We will also count on the help of the Orion, Tarz, who has probably already received his coded message from Dizchard." Here Sulu stopped and looked unhappily at his Captain.

"What is it, Mr. Sulu?" asked Jim.

"Captain," Sulu spoke hesitantly, "can we really count on the Orion?"

"Mr. Sulu, if for no other reason than it's in his own self-interest to help us, and because of Dizchard's assurances, then yes, I do think we can count on him."

"Aye, sir," said Sulu, but he still looked unhappy.

"To continue," said Sulu, "the odds are against us in hand to hand combat because we are outnumbered by three to one, but we are counting on the element of surprise and that the A. I. clerk has reported to Retz that we are completely demoralized and ready to do what he wants, and we hope to have Tarz' assistance to even up the odds a little. We will go in with phasers set on heavy stun, overwhelm and subdue the warriors and get the hostages."

"Ambassador, any comments on the sequence of events?" asked the Captain.

"No, Captain. Everything seems to be in hand." Sarek's intent gaze passed over the assembled crew. "I thank all of you in advance for attempting this difficult and dangerous mission. I commend you on your courage and loyalty to your Captain." Sarek turned to Jim, "I have a few minutes before I must leave, Captain. May I have a word with you in private?"

"What is it, Ambassador," Jim asked as he closed the library door.

"It is my most earnest wish to go with you on this mission, Captain. But as it is not possible, I only wanted to, as Amanda would say, wish you luck." As always, Sarek's voice and eyes softened when he spoke of his wife.

"Thank you, Sarek. I also wish you were coming with us. I've had many occasions to know and be grateful for that Vulcan strength," answered Jim. Looking at the austere Vulcan face, he once again wished wistfully that Vulcans shook hands.

As if divining the wish, Sarek held out his hand in the gesture of the human handshake and after a brief second of surprise, Jim grasped it warmly.

"I will leave you now, Captain. It is time."

"Goodbye, Sarek. May fortune smile on all of us."

Jim stood for a moment after Sarek left thinking about the very human gesture Sarek had made. He wondered ruefully if it was Jim's own need for reassurance that had prompted the Ambassador's hand shake or if even Vulcans need warmth and moral support now and then.

He walked back to his people in the living room and purposefully strode to the viewer and turned it on to the Council telecast. All the crew gathered around the screen to watch the proceedings. The news reporter were scurrying to and fro trying to interview delegates and the VIP's.

McCoy stood by Jim and muttered under his breath. "Vultures…all of them, poking and prying into people's lives." He was worried sick that some inkling of the kidnapping might leak out and compromise the mission. If the public became aware of what the Orions had done, others of the lunatic fringe might get similar ideas; "copycat" killers were a well-known psychological phenomenon. Terrorism was contagious. McCoy had studied Earth terrorism reports during the twentieth and twenty-first centuries very carefully. It was part of his expertise as a member of First Contact and Away Teams. It was his considered opinion that the press had contributed greatly to the spread of terrorism by their minute by minute accounts of every horrible atrocity committed by terrorists. That kind of media attention gave fanatics an even larger stage to flaunt their psychosis. He had little use and less respect for the fourth estate.

There was a sudden flurry on the Council Floor and the watching crew members saw Sarek striding past the reporters with Rand at his side. He sat in his delegate chair and the reporters surrounded him. They thrust cameras and micro-speakers into his face.

"Ambassador, sir! Will you make a statement? Ambassador Sarek, have you decided how you will cast your vote? Ambassador, has Vulcan decided how you will vote?" An aggressive Rigellian reporter pushed herself forward to ask.

"Gentle Beings, please." Sarek raised a hand for silence. "I have no comment at this time. My vote will be known to you at the proper time. If you will excuse me, I have some work I still have to do and it is difficult under these circumstances." Sarek motioned to the security guard hovering nearby and he came to stand pointedly by the reporters. Under his baleful stare, they moved off reluctantly and with poor grace to try to interview another delegate.

To the watching Kirk, Sarek appeared his usual impassive self except for the pallor in the hewn face. The holo viewer shifted as the camera swept the vast chamber and he caught a glimpse of Admiral Nogura and the fair head of Cedar by his side holding a pad and communicator. They were seated in the V.I.P. section of the Council gallery.

Under cover of the holo viewer sound, Jim leaned in and asked McCoy, "Bones, how did the crew do in the workout?"

"They did well, Jim. Their reaction time was as good as or better than the usual Red Alert drills I think their motivation had a lot to do with it." McCoy glance questioned his captain. "How was your workout, by the way? You've been off your feed and you haven't been sleeping and you haven't worked out in several days." McCoy searched Jim's face. "That kind of stress plays hell with workout efficiency."

"My timing was a little off at first, Bones and my muscles felt stiff, but after I warmed up I did fine. Sulu and I had a thorough workout. You know Sulu, he's as bad as Spock. He won't let me get away with a thing." Jim grimaced ruefully, remembering two or three good falls he'd had at the hands of his helmsman.

A sudden rise in the noise level on the screen drew their attention back the Council session floor. Then silence descended from the floor to the gallery; the session had begun.

The President of the Federation Council, a tall thin Vegan with silver hair and very pink skin, stepped up to the podium and stood before the Assembly. He banged the gavel three times. "Fellow members, this Council Session of the United Federation of Planets will come to order. There is only one agenda item today. The issue before us is consideration of the application of the planet Orion for membership in the Federation Council of Planets. Each delegate will have fifteen minutes to state their views on the issue. Members may defer to another delegate if they so choose, but no one may exceed their allotted time limit. The delegates will speak in alphabetical order. Aldebaran will speak first, Vulcan will speak last. At the end of the speeches, excluding his own, the distinguished Ambassador from Vulcan has also consented to address the Council with a summary of all the pros and cons of the admission issue. After the summation, the Ambassador will begin his own speech. After his fifteen minutes, the roll call vote will begin. The delegate from Aldeberan will now begin."

"This will take a long time, Sulu. All diplomats talk too much," said Chekov softly, watching the screen.

"I know Pavel, but we have to wait. Just relax," said Sulu.

Jim watched the screen for a while, but he was much too restless to sit for long. He rose and began to pace. McCoy always said that Jim had refined pacing to a fine art. He paced when he was worried; he paced when he was angry; he paced when he was happy; when he had to wait on a mission; and when he was in love…especially when he was in love. Now, Jim was pacing because he was at the end of his rope and because he was sick and tired of being rational and patient when his family and friends were in deadly danger.

McCoy eyed him in concern. Like Spock, he had the same thought, _he looks thinner and he looks close to exploding. He needs some action. I wish Spock was here; we could do one of our routines and Jim would smile and we would all feel a little better if only for a minute. _He sighed; he was frustrated and worried sick, but there was little he could do to help either himself or his captain.

Uhura glanced up from her seat on the floor and saw Jim pacing. She got up and went over to him. "Captain, may I get you some coffee?" Her soft brown eyes looked searchingly into his.

"What?" The hazel eyes looked blankly into her own.

"Would you like some coffee?" she asked again.

"Oh. No, but thanks Uhura. I couldn't swallow it right now, it would choke me."

"Jim…it'll be all right. We'll have them home very soon. It won't be long now." She took one of his hand between her own two strong ones. She would feel the tension in the hand that gripped her own so tightly, then abruptly he relaxed, patted her hands lightly, and put his arm around her and gave her a brief hug.

"I think I will have that coffee now, Nyota."

Uhura smiled radiantly. "Right away."

Jim took the coffee and swallowed two gulps and walked over to Sulu.

"Whose turn is it, Sulu?"

"Sadrao, Captain. So far opinions are about even, I think."

"Yes, Sarek expected that. That's why the Vulcan vote is so important. There are just a few more delegates. Let's get in place people."

The crew rose and got into their designated teams and into beaming position. Their faces were both tense and eager. At long last, they were going to do something!

"Kirk to _Enterprise._"

"Kyle here, Captain."

"We're in place, Mr. Kyle, beam us up to the cargo bay"

"Aye, Captain. Beaming up now."

Kirk's consciousness dissolved into the familiar slight nausea of the transporter effect and he found himself on board the large cargo hold of the ship with the two teams around him.

"Ok, Mr. Kyle, who's speaking now."

"Vandican, Captain."

"Good, Ambassador Sarek is next."

The crew watched closely as the Vandican Ambassador droned on until he finally finished his speech. The Council President rose and stood before the expectant silent crowd. "It is now my distinct honor and privilege to introduce the distinguished Ambassador from Vulcan who will summarize the stated views from all the members of the Council. After, he will speak for his allotted fifteen minutes on Vulcan's position on the question."

To loud and sustained applause, Sarek of Vulcan stood and walked with measured tread to the raised podium. His dignity and calm were like a balm to Jim's bruised sprit. He watched the holo viewer avidly.

"Get ready, people," he murmured, and the crew got on the cargo transporter pads.

The applause finally died down and Sarek bowed fractionally to the President and began to speak.

"My fellow members of the United Federation of Planets Council…."

"NOW KYLE," ordered the captain, felt his consciousness dissolve.


	24. Chapter 23

Hostages

Chapter 23

The team beamed in right on target. "Good work, Kyle," muttered Jim looking around and scanning the perimeter. It all looked exactly as he expected, as he motioned for them to spread out. The Bay was tranquil, the green expanse of lawn and parking lot were totally empty except for the three shuttles. There should only be one sentry patrolling, but there was no sign of him on this side of the building.

Jim motioned to Sulu, who went down on hands and knees and crawled to the corner of the building to check on the sentry. Sure enough, the guard was leaning nonchalantly against the wall looking out at the Bay. He looked totally relaxed. Sulu raised his phaser and fired; the sentry went down instantly without a sound. Sulu motioned to Dr. McCoy and they crawled over and dragged the body over to the waiting Kirk. McCoy's hypo was out and against the Orion's neck.

"He'll be out for least two hours, with this stuff. He'll feel awful afterwards too," said the doctor.

"Good. One less to worry about," Jim said. "Ok. Scotty, you and Riley, stay behind us. As soon as we find the room with the Orions, we'll go in and you go straight to the equipment room and destroy it all. I don't know how many warriors are in there, so be careful. Signal Kyle as soon as you disable everything and get the hell out of there and come back to help us. We'll be right next door."

"On it, sir," said Riley.

They all made their way cautiously through the front door and silently up the stairs on the west side of the building. Everything was eerily quiet. Jim had his tricorder in hand, leading the way. At the head of the stairwell, he stopped and mouthed silently, "Orion life forms," and pointed down the long hallway to the right.

"It's the third door down," he whispered. Stun first, ask questions later. All phasers on heavy stun, people. Let's go."

Jim and the team walked silently down the corridor and burst into the room, opening fire at the door. Jim caught glimpses of a semicircle of stupefied Orion faces seated in front of several holo viewers as they turned to him. The disrupters at their waists shone weirdly blue-black in the glow of the screens. Then his awareness narrowed to the urgent need to stun and subdue the Orions.

The scream of phasers set on heavy stun echoed in the small room and Kirk saw his people, some standing, and some kneeling as Orion bodies thudded to the floor unconscious. Five to 11 were not good odds, though, and already Jim could see that some of the warriors had drawn their disrupters and knives. He crouched down and tackled one warrior who was aiming his disruptor in the general direction of Chekov. Chekov was in a fierce hand to hand battle with a young warrior who towered over him. Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw Marie Bridges come up behind the burly Orion warrior nearly twice her size, grab him by the hair and as his head came up, swing her small fist into his trachea. He fell without a sound like a downed buffalo at her feet. Chekov gave her a breathless thanks.

McCoy had subdued another warrior by the simple means of tripping him, holding him down by sitting on him, and injecting him with his trusty hypo. McCoy stood up looking for another victim, his hypo held out like a phaser.

Jim, now very busy trying to prevent his own Orion from killing him with his knife, (more of a short sword, really) finally succeeded in putting a boot in his gut, grabbed one of his arms, twisted it back and up in a sharp thrust. He heard the shoulder snap and the warrior dropped to the floor, screaming. Jim finished him off with a quick blow to the back of the head with his phaser and he stood, bent over trying to get his breath.

Sulu was slowly being backed up against a wall as a large, ugly warrior menaced him with his knife, trying to get to his throat. He made a sudden lunge at Sulu, but he was too fast and over extended himself. Sulu sidestepped and with a quick sweep of his leg, overturned the Orion. The warrior fell heavily on his own knife which protruded grotesquely from front to back and he gurgled loudly as the last breath left his lungs. Sulu watched in horror as the green blood spurted over his boots and seeped down to the floor. He spun quickly as he heard another Orion shrieking a battle cry from behind. Weirdly, he saw two Orion warriors in the corner of the room fighting each other fiercely, their grunts and gasps suddenly loud in the now quiet room. Sulu suddenly recognized the slim figure and black head of one of the warriors.

"Captain, it's Tarz!"

Jim Kirk, still bent over and fighting for breath, nevertheless managed to find his voice. "Tarz, get out of the way," he yelled. He aimed his phaser but the two fighting warriors were too close to each other for him to fire, and neither showed any signs that heard him.

Scotty and Riley had made their way to the next room. Noiselessly, Riley crouched down at the doorway, phaser aimed and ready to fire. Scotty took his place behind him. One lone Orion sat in front of an elaborate system with his back to the door; his booted feet were up on the console.

"Psst," Riley hissed at him.

Startled at the sudden noise, he turned toward the door, and Riley fired. He tumbled unconscious to the floor.

"Out like a light," said Riley, nudging him with his boot. He bent over and removed the knife and disruptor. "Never knew what hit him."

"Keep your eyes on that doorway, Riley, there's a good lad, we don't want any surprises, while I dismember this beastie," said Scotty.

"Verry, verry sophisticated equipment here," murmured Scotty, admiringly. "'Tis a shame to destroy it; we could probably learn something from it. I could maybe adapt parts of it for the _Enterprise_. Now, I wonder where they hid the input to this thing."

"Hurry up, Scotty. Don't stop to make love to the thing, get rid of it!"

Scotty's hands flew across the console with ease, disabling the systems in record time. "Tis done, lad." He flipped open his communicator. "Mr. Kyle, Scott here."

"Mr. Scott! Thank God. I'm getting a signal up here, it's from the shielded room and it's transmitting coordinates. How is that possible, Scotty?"

Scotty grinned. "Good ole, Mr. Spock. He must have found a way to do the impossible yet another time. Now lad, check your scanners, the shields should be down now."

"Yes, sir. Scanners say shields are down. I'm getting clear life form reading now."

"Then Mr. Kyle, do your duty and beam up the hostages now; use Mr. Spock's coordinates since he was kind enough to send them to us."

"Aye sir, beaming them up now."

They waited impatiently until Kyle's triumphant shout came over the communicator. "They're here, Mr. Scott! Alive and well! Mr. Spock, Lady Amanda, and Peter, they're fine."

Riley and Scotty whooped, pounded and hugged each other with joy.

"Kyle, signal the good news to Rand on the Council floor so she can pass it on to Sarek, and then to Cedar so the Admiral will know. Tell them to be very careful, the reporters are still there. We have to go back to help the Captain," said Mr. Scott.

"Mr. Scott." Spock's voice came over the communicator, stopping Scotty in his tracks.

"Mr. Spock, 'tis that good to hear your voice, sir," answered Scott.

"And yours also, Mr. Scott. Please stay where you are. I am beaming down to assist you…."

"But sir, shouldn't you be in sick bay?"

The protest died on Scott's lips as the form of Spock materialized in front of him.

By necessity, their greetings were brief; but Spock didn't flinch from Scott's and Riley's pounding his back with joy.

"Mr. Spock, your father was notified that you are safe, and just in time for the roll call vote too, and Admiral Nogura has also been told."

Spock ignored the information. "Mr. Scott, where is the captain?"

"Sir, they're in the other room and 'tis urgent we join them; they're badly out numbered by the Orions, and though we had the element of surprise on our side, the odds are still not good."

"Then by all means, let us go help them."


	25. Chapter 24

Hostages

Chapter 24

Jim Kirk could not get a clear line of fire. He yelled again as he circled the two Orion warriors. He didn't want to fire and hit Tarz if he could avoid it. He could see the agonized face of Tarz with his one good arm around the neck of the Orion leader and it was clear that Tarz could not last much longer. Jim looked at his useless phaser, gave a mental shrug, drew back his arm and with a hard blow of the butt of the phaser, felled the other warrior.

Tarz stood shakily on his feet and looked down at Retz, and then at the face of his rescuer. "Captain Kirk, I presume?" He gasped out the words, pale as death.

"Yes. Here, let me help you, you're bleeding all over yourself. Bones!" he shouted. "We have an injured man here."

"I'm all right, Captain." But Tarz sat down on the floor and let McCoy look him over. He truly had not believed he would still be alive after the fight with Retz and still could not believe it.

"Captain Kirk," he said tiredly. "I am most grateful for your help. I was afraid something would go wrong, that the hostages would be killed in a few more minutes and there would be nothing I could do. Ambassador Sarek was almost finished with his speech."

But James Kirk was not listening. He was looking over to the doorway and had seen….Spock!

"Spock!" Slightly dazed and unbelieving, he walked to the doorway. "Spock, you're really here?" He grasped Spock's arms; he was real, he was solid. He closed his eyes in an agony of relief and joy!

"Yes, Jim. It is I." Spock's eyes smiled into his Captain's. "And I can see that the five of you had no real need of my help."

"Spock, you pointed eared hobgoblin!" This from McCoy, who was still on the floor ministering to Tarz, and grinning with delight up at the Vulcan. "I never thought I'd live to see the day when I would say this, but I'm very glad to see you!"

"And I, Doctor, will confess that I too, am 'glad' to see you; all of you." His gaze took in the rest of the crew who looked back at him beaming.

Jim's grasp on Spock's arm had not slackened. His relief was profound; but he still felt as if Spock might disappear again if he let go. His mind was full of unasked questions and confused thoughts.

"Spock, where is Peter; and Amanda?"

"Jim, Peter is fine, my mother too is well. They are on board ship and Dr. M'Benga and Nurse Chapel are giving them a complete physical exam in sick bay.

Jim sighed thankfully and finally reassured on all counts, released his hold on Spock's arm.

The captain looked around the room littered with unconscious Orions. It was over. Six days of living hell were finally over. He looked over at Tarz. "I suppose this one is Retz," he nudged the unconscious warrior with the toe of his boot.

"Yes Captain. He was trying to kill me, and I'm sure he would have succeeded if you had not intervened. I thank you."

Jim shook his head. "I'll never understand people like him and why they do the things they do." His eyes were weary with exhaustion as they questioned Spock. "Why, Spock? Why did he do it?"

Spock's hand touched him lightly. "It is not really possible for some one like you to understand some one like him. Leave it, Jim. He really has nothing to do with us. He is truly an alien, someone we can never really know."

Jim knew that it was true. He couldn't really get into the mind of someone like Retz, a mind totally distorted by hatred and rage, yet not insane in the true sense of the word. He nodded his understanding to his friend, and then said. "Sulu, notify Star Fleet to get some security here and take these men into custody. We want to go home."

"Aye, sir."

They waited silently for the security team and when the last of the Orion had been taken away, Jim flipped open his communicator.

"Kirk to _Enterprise_."

"_Enterprise_ here. "

"Nine to beam up, Mr. Kyle. We're ready to come home."

"Aye sir. Beaming up now, Captain."

At the transporter cargo bay a small figure waited impatiently by Kyle. As the crew materialized in front of him, he detached his hand from Kyle's and ran forward eagerly."

"Uncle Jim, Uncle Jim!" I'm here!" He hurled himself at his uncle and wrapped tight arms around his waist. James Kirk, unashamed of the tears that were running down his face, and oblivious of the watching sympathetic faces around him, picked up his nephew, hugged and kissed him hard, and carried him out of the room. There was a very important call they had to make.

It was two days later. Winona Kirk had arrived at the apartment the day before to be greeted rapturously by her grandson and no less rapturously by her son. The joy, happiness and relief in the apartment was palpable. After lunch, McCoy had taken Peter to the library for a long talk. The library door remained closed for almost two hours, and the four adults waiting in the living room made no real attempts at conversation while they waited. The two hours seemed interminable. When the library door opened, McCoy came out by himself, put his fingers to his lips and closed the door quietly.

"He's asleep, he's still tired, and the nap will do him good. I tucked him in on the sofa and he'll sleep for a while. Nothin' like an afternoon nap to help things along."

"Bones?" Jim looked anxiously at the doctor.

"Relax, Jim, you too, Winona. He's doing fine. He's a real Kirk, that one. He told me all about it in great detail with no hesitation or trying to hide anything. Spock and Amanda did a great job. His stress levels are lower than I expected and physically he's just fine. Didn't even lose any weight. That little kid is tough. We'll have a couple of more sessions while he's here, but I don't anticipate any problems. You're doing a fine job raising him, Winona. He's a delightful kid. Of course you've had practice, right?

Winona Kirk smiled radiantly at the doctor. "Thank you, Dr. McCoy. Yes, I've had a little practice with boys, but I hope this one isn't going to be as reckless and daring as Jim was when he was Peter's age. I don't know if I can live through it all again."

"Ma! I wasn't that bad!" Jim protested, his face shocked. "Was I really?"

His mother smiled at him. "Yes you were, dear. But I wouldn't have you any other way."

Now that the Federation Council business was finished. Sarek and Amanda decided they would leave for Vulcan in two days. Uhura was also leaving for Kenya to visit her friends and family. Because of the impending departures, Winona, Amanda, and Uhura decided that a celebration dinner would be a great idea for the next evening. There was a hurried consultation on ways and means and after the dinner menu was planned, a frenzy of grocery shopping that afternoon. It would be a Thanksgiving Dinner, they decided, because what could be more appropriate then that? There would be a big roasted turkey, two kinds of stuffing, the traditional cornbread with giblets and dried cranberries (the recipe handed down from Winona's grandmother) and the regular bread based stuffing with onions, celery and sage. There would also be mashed potatoes with gravy on the side, a Southern corn pudding, (McCoy's mom's recipe) the traditional green bean casserole, fresh cranberry sauce, a pecan marshmallow sweet potato casserole, two kinds of pie, pumpkin and pecan, wine and coffee. Amanda, Winona, and Uhura took over the kitchen and cooked all day. McCoy, Jim and Spock chopped, squeezed, cleaned and tasted. Peter had been underfoot most of the time, but no one had the heart to say a word, until Spock sat him down at the table and methodically peeled an apple for him without breaking the peel. Peter watched in fascination and then he too, had to try it with another apple.

That evening they all sat at the table set with fine china and crystal. Jim stood up and looked at his family and dearest friends with love and thanksgiving in his eyes. His heart was full.

"There are no words to really say how I feel, how thankful I am to have you here beside me, to know you are safe and at home. To Amanda, Spock and Peter, welcome home! Let's eat!"

Later that evening, replete with good food, everyone sat around the fireplace, hesitant to end the evening knowing that it was goodbye the next day. As they drank their coffee, Peter drifted silently around the room from person to person, first sitting closely at his grandmother's side. Next he sat down on the floor by McCoy and leaned back on the doctor's knees. McCoy patted the sandy head affectionately. Peter got up after a while and went and sat next to Uhura and she let him pluck the stings of the lyre softly so he could hear the sounds. He rose and went to sit by Amanda, and held her hand for a while. He left Amanda and carefully by passed Sarek, and then stood behind his Uncle Jim, put his arms around his neck and rested his chin on his head. Jim reached up and covered the small hands with his own. Finally, he went to Spock, who was sitting on a kitchen chair. He put his arm around Spock's neck, just as he had done in the hostage room, and leaned in to rest his head on Spock's shoulder. Spock put his arm around the little boy, and Peter stayed there content.

Jim looked at Spock and hazel eyes met gentle dark ones. Jim's eyes were full of gratitude. Spock nodded slightly in acknowledgement of the trust he had been given and the trust that he had kept.


	26. Hostages Chapter 25 Epilogue

Hostages

Chapter 25

Epilogue

James Kirk sat back comfortably in his accustomed seat on the bridge. It felt good to be back on board his ship. He felt rested and relaxed and eager for their new assignment.

"Take us out of orbit, Mr. Sulu; it's time to get back to work."

"Aye, sir."

Jim sat back and watched as they left the orbital station and slowly sailed out of Earth's atmosphere.

"It was quite a furlough we had this time, Jim," said McCoy from his usual place behind Jim, his eyes riveted on the view screen as they glided by the giant planets and out of the solar system.

"I have to agree with you on that one, Bones. But as the poet says, 'all's well that end's well' and thank God, Peter is doing fine thanks to you, and so is your mother, Spock."

"Yes, Captain. She and my father are happy to be back in Vulcan and getting a well deserved rest after the Federation Council session."

Kirk smiled to himself. The reunion between Sarek and Amanda had been a private one, but for all that, Amanda had looked radiant afterward.

"You know, Spock, it was all a little anti-climatic; the vote I mean. I guess Sarek's voice carried the day after all."

"Yep," said McCoy. "The only real surprise was finding out that young man Tarz was Dizchard's son. No wonder he was so afraid we'd screw somethin' up. His son's life was on the line, and even though Tarz never really lived with him as a son, blood is still thicker than water; even green blood." McCoy threw a mischievous glace up at Spock who ignored him. "I'm sure glad that Retz character is gonna be put away for a long, long time….maybe the rest of his miserable life." Then McCoy's eyes crinkled with laughter. "I wonder how 'ole Dizchard is gonna like possibly having a human daughter in law."

Jim laughed. "Serves him right. It seemed to me though, that he was resigned to it by the time we left. If Admiral Nogura's reaction to Cedar is any clue, I have an idea that Dizchard will eventually be putty in her hands. He'll succumb to those big grey eyes I'll bet."

Speaking of Admiral Nogura…" said Spock.

"You know, Spock, somehow we never did get back to that conversation about my future. I bet he forgets all about it," said Jim.

"We can but hope,' said Spock. " But I sincerely doubt that the Admiral ever forgets anything."

"Speaking of forgetting, Spock, Uhura asked me to give you this letter disk. It came in while you were still planet side," said McCoy peering closely at the disk before handing it to Spock.

Spock looked at Jim with a gleam of amusement in his dark eyes. "I would not like to thwart your curiosity, Dr. McCoy. We shall soon see who sent it." He dropped it into the computer terminal and called up the letter on the screen. He looked at the signature.

"It's from Peter," he said.

"Peter!" Jim and McCoy said together in surprise.

"What does he say for heaven's sake?" asked McCoy.

"You may read it for yourself, you too, Jim."

The two men peered over Spock's shoulder and read:

_Dear Mr. Spock_

_ I'm back home with my grandma in Iowa, and I wanted to let you know I'm practicing my chess moves every day. _

_My teacher says I didn't get behind on my school work. Please tell Lady Amanda for me. _

_I miss all of you very much. Tell Mr. Scott I received the model of the Enterprise he sent me. It's great! I took it to school to show my teacher and friends. I'm going to write him soon to thank him. Also the kids at school love the songs that Uhura recorded for me. I play them at night before I go to sleep and I am not so homesick for all of you that way. _

_Mr. Spock, please take care of my Uncle Jim. You know how he is. He says you keep an eye on him better than anyone else can. _

_Thank you for all you did for me, and for taking good care of me when we were hostages. My grandma is going to write to you about that. I will always remember what you told me when I cried. _

_That's all I have to say right now, except that I hope you will always be my friend and that you will live long and prosper_

_Your friend, _

_Peter_

_p.s. If you aren't too busy I would really like it if you would write to me. Will you? Also tell Dr. McCoy, Lieutenant Uhura, Lieutenant Sulu, Mr. Scott and Mr. Chekov hello for me._

Kirk and McCoy looked at each other for a long moment and then at the bemused Spock.

"What on earth did you say to the boy when he cried, Spock?" asked McCoy, "that he's always gonna remember, for Pete's sake. That sure didn't come up in our talks."

Spock looked at the doctor and then steadily at Jim before he spoke.

"I told him that he need not be ashamed to cry, that sometimes even Starship Captains cry."

Jim smiled wistfully, already missing the little boy. "And will you write to him, Spock?"

Spock's gaze was steadfast on the view screen so Jim could not see his eyes.

"Yes, Captain. I will. And I will tell him that I have been and always will be his friend."

The End

**I hope everyone enjoyed the story. Please review, I'd appreciate it. **


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